by Riker, Becky
“What if we tie them up and leave them here?” Turner suggested.
Chung refuted that idea, “Leaving them to die of thirst and exposure is worse than killing them with a gun.”
Slater agreed. He thought a moment before turning to the boys.
“We don’t want to shoot you,” he explained in Pashto, “but if we let you go, you’ll run and tell someone we are here.”
The boys denied it vehemently. Slater was not going to risk it. The village was less than half a mile away, and he didn’t know what kinds of vehicles were available to the people there.
Slater shook his head, “I don’t believe you. We could tie you up instead.”
The boys became excited at the idea.
“But you will die of thirst and from the sun.”
The youngest child began to cry.
“No,” the oldest one disagreed, “we will not die. My uncle was to follow us tomorrow morning. He will find us.”
Slater looked at Chung who nodded his agreement. Porter shrugged; Turner pulled some ropes from his bag.
Garret pulled a water bottle from his pack, “This is all I can give you. You must drink it slowly and share.”
The boys nodded somberly.
Turner frisked the boys for sharp objects and found two knives among them.
Slater held them up, “I am going to put these out in the grass over there, so you can look for them after the uncle arrives.”
The oldest boy nodded.
Turner tied the boys hands in front of them and bound them to their chests. He then tied their feet before tying all the boys together.
Slater put the bottle in the hands of one of the boys, “Don’t drop this.”
He led the men off in the wrong direction.
“Chief,” Chung pointed out after they had travelled half a mile, “do you have a plan?”
Slater stopped, “I need a new route – one that doesn’t involve going near those boys.”
Porter laughed, “You afraid they’re going to tell the uncle? We’ll have Hanbali tonight.”
Slater smirked, “The kid lied. When we first caught them, I heard him tell the others not to worry because his uncle would be following within an hour.”
Porter made a growling noise and spat an epithet.
“They were just trying to stay alive, Porter,” he reminded the man.
Chung pointed down a different path, “This should get us there, but our little field trip has cost us time. We need to pick up the pace.”
The men arrived at the interception point and sat down for the wait.
“Porter,” Slater commanded as he checked his rifle, “see if you can get in touch with Price. I’d like an ETA on that convoy.”
Porter was already setting up his equipment.
He turned to the man next to him, “How’s the arm, Chung?”
“Hurts, but not like it did.”
Slater glanced around at the men, “Garret and Turner, take the first watch. Hall look at Chung’s arm.”
“Hall and Porter, come relieve Turner and Garret after you get some food.”
The men didn’t have to ask what Slater would be doing. They knew he would stand guard until all his men had eaten.
“You should look at Reed’s side again,” Chung spoke softly as Hall unwrapped the injured arm.
Hall snorted, “You think?”
Porter grinned from his position, “Afraid to ask him to drop his pants again?”
“I’m afraid to even talk to him again,” Hall lowered his voice. “He does not want to be leading this thing.”
Chung shook his head, “I wouldn’t either.”
Porter scratched at his beard, “You know command told us to pull out.”
“That’s a pile of garbage,” Hall spat at him. “This is one mission we aren’t letting go unfinished.”
Nobody was confused about Hall’s reasoning. To give up now would be to make their friends’ deaths meaningless.
Porter made contact with command, ate quickly, and then went to advise Slater on the target’s position.
“Has everybody eaten?” Slater got down the welfare of his men as soon as he received the information.
“Garret and Turner are eating right now.”
“How’s Chung’s arm?”
Porter shrugged, “Still broken.”
Slater rolled his eyes without looking away from the road.
Porter knew the conversation was over, so he took up the spot Turner had vacated.
Slater found some time to down an MRE, but he was soon back at his post. He knew the target was not due for a few hours, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
The road was not well travelled, so the men didn’t have to work hard at staying hidden.
Porter made contact with Major Price an hour before the cars were estimated to arrive. The colonel was blunt in his assessment of the situation, but he left the decision up to the team. Slater knew he owed it to his men to address the situation with them.
“There were three vehicles when last spotted,” Slater informed his squad of the situation. “We aren’t sure how many men or which vehicle Hanbali is in. Command has again suggested we stand down.”
Nobody responded.
“I’m not leading you guys into this without complete agreement.”
Garret pointed to the road, “We’re already in position, Chief.”
“I’m aware of that, Garret, but this whole thing could go south fast.”
To a man, every jaw clenched in determination.
“If we put it off,” Turner had his hands shoved in his pockets, “we’ll never catch up with Hanbali. They’re probably heading up to Kashmir next.”
Slater looked down at his watch, “It’s twenty-three hundred. Assuming command was right about where they were last spotted, they should be here within the hour. Check your goggles, find your positions, and follow the plan.”
Without a doubt, Porter was the best shot. In keeping with the other surprises of this mission, there was a change in the situation. There were only two cars.
Porter watched them coming toward the group, but didn’t see a third vehicle.
He looked to Slater. That man nodded. Porter took the shot and blew out the rear tire on the lead car. Due to the silencer on the weapon, the car’s occupants were unaware of the true danger accompanying their vehicular damage.
The car careened across the road before screeching to a halt. The second vehicle – a Range Rover – slowed down and parked before its leader.
The lack of moon was advantageous to the team. The members of the Taliban could not see the soldiers just ten feet from them, rifles at the ready. The front seat passenger got out of the disabled car first.
Slater could hear him cursing in Pashto.
The Afghani dug in the trunk. Someone on the other side of the road made a noise, and he snapped around, looking for the threat.
A second man climbed out of the front car. They were soon joined by two men from the second car.
The backseat passengers from the second car remained where they were, but appeared to be craning their necks to see what was happening.
Slater caught sight of Hanbali. He raised a fist to his men and held up two fingers. He saw his men respond in kind.
The tire was well on its way to being changed, but the team had not yet a straight shot to get rid of the man sitting in the seat with the hostage.
Slater wanted to lure the man from his seat, but he was afraid anything he did would wind up scaring the man into injuring the hostage – or worse.
Only two of the men who were outside were holding guns. Not too bright.
Slater pulled a smoke grenade from his pocket and pulled the pin. Crouching low, he tossed it under the second vehicle.
If the situation hadn’t been so serious, it would have been funny to watch the rear passengers gagging and jumping from the car.
The driver shouted at them to get back in, but the man argued something was wrong and h
e couldn’t breathe with all the smoke.
Four of the special forces soldiers took aim and shot. Slater, being the closest, darted to Hanbali, dragging the fighting hostage to the ground while Porter dropped the remaining Taliban member. The slaughter was over in less than two minutes. The Afghanis did not have time to draw their guns.
Turner and Porter began dragging the corpses to a nearby ravine. Hall and Chung searched the lead vehicle before lighting it on fire.
Slater pushed Hanbali into the backseat of the rear vehicle.
“Stay,” he ordered and then repeated it in Pashto in case the message had not been clear the first time.
“You are American,” it wasn’t a question, so Slater didn’t bother answering it.
His men were returning from disposing of the bodies, “Get in. Hall, you drive.”
Garret opened the hatch to the back of the Rover and climbed in, facing rearward .
“Hall always gets to drive.”
Slater slid in next to Hall, “That’s because you drive like an old woman.”
Porter and Turner pressed in on either side of Hanbali while Cho climbed in with Garret and shut the hatch.
“Go,” Slater ordered before all the doors were even closed, “I don’t know where that third vehicle is, and I’m not too keen on finding out.”
“Man,” Garret had his knees to his chest, “it smells like Chung’s socks in here.”
Hall laughed as he sped along the road.
Porter opened a window, “Reed, you gotta go easy on those grenades. How many did you launch?
“How much fuel you got in the tank?” Slater ignored Porter’s question.
“Three quarters of a tank. That outta get us into Ghori.”
“Tell me again, Chung,” Porter grunted as he shifted his equipment around, “why are we going into India if what we really want is to get back to Afghanistan?”
“We’re getting picked up there.”
“Jeez, Hall. You going off-roading?”
“Shut it, Porter,” Hall shot back. “The last time you drove, we rolled.”
“Be thankful it’s not a Civic,” Chung tried to shift his shoulders.
Slater tried to look over his shoulder at Hanbali, but had to settle for shouting over his shoulder.
“Butrus Hanbali,” he thought it was high time he introduced himself, “I’m Captain Slater Reed of the United States Army. We’re taking you back to Afghanistan.”
“I deduced that,” came the silky voice with just a hint of accent. “But I only am known as Butrus to those who are unaware that I am a woman.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Hall had to slow down to avoid some substantial holes in the road.
“So, you would prefer to be called ‘Miss Hanbali?” Porter didn’t look down at the woman next to him.
“My name is Khayriya Haniyyah Hanbali, but my English-speaking friends call me Riya.”
Hall shot a look of surprise to Slater.
“Fine, Riya,” Slater began, “do you have any idea what happened to the third vehicle in this convoy?”
“They were behind us,” she began, “but we kept getting further and further ahead. I do not know why.”
“How fast were you travelling?” Slater could guess by how long it took them to reach Muzzafarabad, but some portions of the road were better than others, and he didn’t know if they stopped at night.
“Very slowly,” she said after a few minutes of consideration. “Certainly slower than Mr. Hall is now going.”
Hall beamed at her implied complaint.
“Sergeant Hall is anxious to be done with this mission, so he can go home and get married.”
Riya smiled, “How lovely for you. Is your intended in the military as well?”
Hall laughed at that, “He. . .ck, no. She’s a dance teacher.”
“Very nice. It must be something akin to beauty and the beast.”
The whole car laughed at that.
“You’ve got him pegged,” Porter laughed.
“Oh,” Hall swore under his breath.
Slater looked ahead. There was a manned roadblock in front of them.
Each man in the car rested a hand on his sidearm.
“Hanbali,” Slater warned her, “get down as low as you can. Stay behind the men.”
Hall slowed, but remained ready to gun it if necessary.
In the silence of the vehicle, six clicks could be heard. Six hands gripped cold steel, ready for a single word.
Slater opened his window. The man on the other side spoke in Hindi.
Slater responded in Punjabi, knowing some people spoke both.
The guard frowned and repeated his initial command.
“Who speaks Hindi here?” Slater shouted back. “Chung?”
“A little. He told us to get out of the car.”
“Like heck we will,” Slater growled.
The guard didn’t look happy.
The situation was drawing the attention of more men outside the vehicle. The other guards stepped up to the doors as the first guard repeated the order.
Hall rolled down the remaining windows in the vehicle.
The men on the outside adjusted their AK 47’s just slightly.
Slater’s tone was low, “On my command, men,” he inhaled. “No survivors.”
“One,” his whisper was barely discernible.
“Two,” the Indian men moved their hands to their own rifles.
Before Slater could say three, Hanbali began speaking rapidly in Hindi.
The guard dropped his hand from his weapon.
One of the men by a back door asked a question.
She responded rapidly.
Every man stepped back from the vehicle. Then stepped back again.
She spoke to the guard without ever showing her face. He looked startled and stepped back from the vehicle a bit.
“What did you say?” Porter asked.
The guard barked at them again, so she did not have time to answer Porter.
She spoke to Slater, “He says we may go.”
The men did not remove their hands from their weapons until they were miles from the blockade.
Chung chuckled from the backseat.
“What’d she say, Chung?” Garret eyed him speculatively.
“She begged them to allow us to take her to her father.”
Riya laughed, “Your Hindi is very good, Sergeant Chung.”
“I’m afraid I understand it better than I speak it. What was that about the sickness?”
“I simply told them I would not like to die from my illness before making peace with him.”
Porter leaned away from her, “What illness would that be?”
“Any illness, of course,” she batted her dark eyes at him.
They drove for twenty minutes, all of them alert despite the lack of sleep over the past couple days. Slater tried to convince their guest to sleep, but she would have none of it.
“Porter,” Slater rubbed his hands over his eyes, “can we contact command while we are driving?”
“Not likely, Chief. It would be better if we could stop.”
Slater wasn’t pleased about having to make that decision.
“Fine,” he knew the men needed a break even if they were unaware of the fact, “Hall, pull over.”
“Porter, get through as quickly as possible. Tell them we’re nearly to Ghori, we have the package, get us out.”
Porter began the attempt as soon as the vehicle was stationary.
“The rest of you, take care of your needs. Keep alert.”
“Riya,” he waited for her to exit the vehicle, “this is likely the last stop for many hours. Do you need to utilize it?”
She smiled, “Thank you. I will.”
He swallowed his sigh, “I need to come with you.”
She shrugged.
They did not step more than ten feet from the vehicle to do what they needed. They returned quickly to their positions inside.
“D
id you reach them?” Slater waited to get in until he was sure everyone was accounted for.
“Command’s located us and is tracking our movement. They’ll have a chopper here by daybreak.”
Slater looked behind them and saw headlights, “Get in,” Slater ordered. “Drive, Hall.”
Hall didn’t wait to be told a second time. They soon lost the other vehicle. It was anybody’s guess as to whether that was because the people in it had no interest in catching the Range Rover or if it was because the driver of the trailing car wasn’t as insane as the driver of the Rover.
“Where are they picking us up, Porter?”
“East of Ghori two miles.”
“We’ll get there before daybreak. Chung and Porter, try to get some sleep.”
The men knew it was a command and did their best to comply.
Slater and the others did their best to not think about their team mates sleeping.
Ghori was hardly worth mentioning on the map. They reached it by four in the morning. Slater told Turner to wake Porter and Chung.
“Stay awake and watch. Turner and Garret, try to sleep.”
“Couldja quit talking about sleep,” Hall griped, “I got the feeling we’re not gonna get any.”
Slater clapped his buddy on the shoulder, “Patience, man. Your time is coming.”
Hall shook his head to wake himself up, “Porter, we got any landmarks?”
“They had a satellite picture of a quonset or some other large building.”
Slater blinked, “I’m not positive,” he pointed, “but that appears to be a Chinook coming in right there.”
Garret craned his neck around backward, “That’s just your imagination, Chief. Like someone travelling through the desert sees water.”
Slater yawned, “Well, I’m getting on board that mirage. You can stay here if you like.”
The chopper landed as Hall parked.
“Good timing,” Garret yawned, never having had the opportunity to actually fall asleep.
Chung spoke into the radio, “Alpha team ready for pickup.”
“Flight team waiting,” came the other end.
The men gathered their gear as they moved toward the waiting chopper, “Who’s our captain today?” Hall asked the voice on the other end.
“Captain Barnes.”
The men looked at each other, sighed and resumed walking toward the vehicle.
“Something wrong with Captain Barnes?” Riya asked Porter.