Black Ops Heroes of Afghanistan

by Eric Meyer

  * * *

  "I'd be more careful if I were you," Sheikh Daud cautioned Massoud. The Afghan trafficker was gunning the SUV along roads that were little more than skating rinks. Ice had frozen on the surface of the snow. Yet the thick white covering still hid the potholes, and the ice was not enough to support the weight of a vehicle.

  "We have to get to Ghazni fast," he snapped, "My men will have heard about the trouble in Mehtar Lam, and they could think I'm dead. They're probably sharing out my property already. There's enough product in my warehouses to make them all rich beyond their wildest dreams."

  "If we go off the road, we'll freeze to death out here, and they'll certainly divide up the spoils of your empire. Please slow down, Massoud. There's no need for this."

  In the back, Parks chuckled, a grating noise like a rusty bearing. Massoud and Daud both realized he was enjoying the nightmare ride, even enjoying throwing the dice and playing against the Grim Reaper.

  Massoud didn't slow. Instead, he kept his foot pressed down hard on the gas pedal. The end came suddenly, when the right side of the vehicle crunched into a roadside ditch covered in a thin layer of snow and ice. Normally, they'd have locked the transmission and driven the Range Rover out of the obstacle. Not this time. The excessive speed drove the SUV further and further over, until the Range Rover tilted at an acute angle. For some reason Massoud failed to ease off the gas, and the big engine drove them on. Physics took over.

  Daud cried out in terror as the force of the crash tipped them upside down, their speed righted them, and then they tipped over again, landing on the roof.

  Massoud cursed, Parks hooted with glee upside down in the back, and Daud checked his body, terrified he'd sustained a serious injury. They helped him out of the vehicle, and he leaned against the bodywork, winded by the sudden collision and shivering in the full force of the snowstorm. After a few minutes, he realized he was uninjured, but rapidly freezing to death.

  "I have to get back inside," he glared at Massoud. They helped him clamber back into the SUV and joined him, so they were crouched on what was the interior of the roof. Daud pulled Massoud toward him.

  "You stupid bastard, I told you not to drive so fast," he snapped, "How do you plan to get us out of this mess?"

  Before he could answer, the American shouted, "Boss."

  "What is it, Parks?"

  "Unless I miss my guess, our ride has just turned up."

  A Unimog, painted brilliant white with red crosses on the paintwork, had seen the accident and stopped. A man climbed out; a paramedic with a red cross on the sleeve of his white thermal anorak. He walked through the snow and banged on the bodywork of the Range Rover. Massoud opened the door.

  "Thank you for stopping."

  "You look as if you need help. You're welcome to ride with us. We're taking a patient to Jalalabad."

  "Wrong." He nodded to Parks, and the American fired once. The bullet took the paramedic in the heart, and he collapsed in the snow, with red blood bright on his white anorak. Both men climbed out of the Range Rover and raced across to the Unimog before the driver had a chance to drive away. They wrenched open the door, and a man stared down at them, his expression horrified at what he'd seen.

  "Please, don't kill me. I'll give you whatever you want."

  "Yes, you will. We're returning to Ghazni, so you can turn this thing around. Parks, fetch Daud. Tell him we have transport."

  The driver shook his head. "Sir, I have to take the patient to Jalalabad. She needs specialist treatment or she'll die."

  Massoud shrugged. "In that case she'll die. Is there anyone else in back?"

  "Just the patient."

  He nodded. "I'll take a look. If you make a move, I'll kill you."

  He walked into the rear of the strange vehicle and looked down at the figure lying on the gurney. An oxygen mask covered the woman's face, and he ripped it aside to look down at her. His eyebrows rose. "Well, well, if it isn't the whore from the Torgan Valley. Can you hear me?"

  She didn't respond, and he considered for a moment whether to put a bullet in her skull. In the end, he decided against it. Who knew when a person could be useful, possibly as a hostage? He smiled to himself.

  If she recovers, perhaps she can restart her duties as a slave and servant. I’m always on the lookout for good help. If she dies, well, too bad. This is Afghanistan. Life’s cheap, and there are always plenty more women.

  He returned to the cab as Parks was pulling Sheikh Daud up through the passenger door. When they'd taken their seats, he nodded to the driver.

  "Take us to Ghazni." He pointed to the upturned Range Rover, "And you'd better be careful of the road conditions. You can see what happens when people drive too fast."

  "Yes, Sir, I'll be careful."

  The big vehicle lurched away, and it was immediately obvious to them it was well suited to the ice and snow-covered roads. The suspension absorbed unexpected bumps and shocks with ease, and they started to relax. Massoud looked at the other two men.

  "Don't worry about what happened. We had a setback, that's all. When we reach our destination, I'll arrange to transfer my assets to another part of the country. This affair has cost me several million dollars, but I will increase the price of my product to cover the losses. I believe they call it capitalism, American style. Who knows, I may even make more money out of all this."

  He chuckled to himself, but Daud was obviously suffering, unhappy at the loss of his prestigious position in Mehtar Lam.

  Too bad, I’ll set him up in another mosque, and he'll be his old self; useful for keeping the authorities away from my business, and in a perfect position to recruit the occasional fighter when I need to squash my business rivals.

  Once, he'd recruited a Shaheed to take care of a rival drug lord. It was a young woman, and as she went to embrace the man, her explosive vest detonated and resolved his problem. He'd even given the girl's family a few hundred dollars in compensation. He recalled they'd been grateful.

  Perhaps Daud can show his gratitude by recruiting more girls of the same caliber, more ignorant fanatics.

  He looked across at the driver. "Is this as fast as you can go? I have a great deal to do when we reach Ghazni. Time is money. Speed it up."

  "But you said to be careful."

  "Now I'm telling you to hurry."

  "I'll do my best, Sir."

  "Do that, and perhaps I'll let you live."