Black Smoke

by Robin Leigh Miller

  When they were a few miles out into the desert, the sun started going down. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the searing sun. But none of them was foolish enough to think it would stay comfortable. Once the sun went down all the way, the desert became cold.

  As promised, Sam began to shed Ricochet’s uniform. She even took a few moments and folded it as neatly as she could. The time she lost in doing the small chore, she quickly made up.

  “Ricochet, start looking” she said over her radio.

  “Roger,” he replied.

  Sam continued to lead them toward their destination. Hours had passed and miles had been walked. Sam didn’t feel the least bit tired and she was sure her companions felt the same way.

  So as long as no one called her off, she would continue toward the small town.

  Another two hours passed without them encountering any obstacles. Sam was beginning to feel uneasy. They should have come across someone by now, but everything was quiet.

  Too quiet.

  She walked for another half an hour when her guide spoke.

  Samantha, there is a group of men ahead. These men look for trouble.

  Sam immediately stopped where she was. She knew when a warning was given, it was real.

  “Hold your position,” she said over her radio.

  Dropping to the ground, Sam belly crawled across the desert floor until she heard voices.

  Many voices. The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up and that meant trouble. She crawled as close as she could before stopping to listen.

  Chapter Eight

  What are they saying? she asked.

  They are looking for Americans. These men are what you call Taliban. There is much hatred in their hearts.

  Are they connected to the missing Americans? she asked.

  No, these men are rebels. They have no reason but hate to harm.

  Sam ran the map through her mind. She needed to get her team past these men without a confrontation. There were too many for the four of them to take and once they engaged any action, word would be out that there were Americans in the desert.

  “Smoke, report.”

  Kong’s voice came across her radio with a harshness that set Sam’s teeth on edge. He’d just have to wait until she was far enough away from the group of men to answer. And those men were her main concern at the moment.

  “Smoke.” His voice came again.

  Sam pushed the sound away and began to backtrack. She heard the three men talking over her earpiece. Something about her being in trouble and Kong swearing. When she was far enough away, she took a deep breath and responded.

  “We need to move south for a while,” she said, talking over something Boomer was saying.

  Kong swore to himself and then let out a breath he’d been holding for the last five minutes.

  “What the hell happened to you? Didn’t you hear me?” he barked into his mouthpiece. He would never tell them, any of them, but he was scared. Scared something or someone had gotten her. His heart never pounded so hard in his life.

  “Sorry Kong, but I had things to deal with, other than your ego that is,” she retorted.

  Kong swore again then took a deep breath to regain his temper. “What happened?”

  Sam smiled to herself. That was better. “A group of the Taliban was out cruising. They were looking for some Americans to party with,” she told them.

  “How many?” Ricochet asked.

  “About twelve, fifteen, too many to confront. Word would be out in less than an hour that Americans were crawling through the desert.”

  Kong knew she was right. They couldn’t afford to let anyone know they were there. “Okay, let’s move out. Tell us where to move to.”

  Sam gave them new directions then began to move herself.

  “Hey Smoke, how close did you get?” Ricochet asked.

  “Close enough to smell them,” Sam replied, then dropped it.

  After another hour of traveling, Kong chimed in over the radio. “How close are we to the target?”

  Sam looked at her compass on her wrist. “We have another hour then we can call it a night.”

  “Good, start looking for a site to set up camp. We’ll need to regroup.”

  A group of rocks sticking out in the middle of the open sand caught Sam’s attention. It was time to start looking for a campsite and this looked like it would provide some sort of cover.

  But first she had to make sure no one else was using it.

  Is that group of rocks safe for us to camp in? she asked her guide.

  It is. You will rest undisturbed.

  Without hesitation, Sam strolled over and checked it out. There was a place for her to sleep away from the men, it wasn’t big, but it would work. She pulled her pack from her back and tossed it on the ground. She stretched her tense muscles then flopped down next to her pack.

  “I found a campsite. It’s twenty degrees north and twelve degrees east of your position,” she said into her radio.

  “Roger that,” came Kong’s voice.

  She figured it would be at least another fifteen minutes until they arrived, so she kicked off her boots and rubbed her feet. They weren’t sore, but if she didn’t work out the tension, they’d be sore by tomorrow. While she was rubbing her feet, she listened to the night, wishing there was a stream or oasis near by. The sand in her shirt was rubbing against her skin and causing sore spots.

  While she was dreaming of cool water, a soft trickling sound caught her attention. She stopped her hands and tilted her head to hear better. Sure enough, she could hear trickling. This was too good to be true, she thought to herself. But the sound was too inviting, so she stood to investigate. Not far away was another group of large rocks that framed a small spring. Sam wanted desperately to stick her feet in it, but she knew the men were due soon.

  Thank you, she said to her guide. Then walked back toward the camp.

  Sam no sooner returned, when the three men came strolling toward the rocks. Boomer looked somber, no different than he’d looked on the plane. Ricochet smiled as he looked over the campsite and Kong looked like he was ready to chew nails and spit rust.

  “Nice job Smoke. I thought we’d be sleeping exposed,” Ricochet said, then slapped her on the back.

  Boomer was already pulling a Meal Ready to Eat from his pack and settling in, Ricochet followed suit.

  Kong tossed his pack on the ground and stood with his hands on his hips. He was still worked up over not being able to reach her on his radio and he was looking for a fight.

  “This isn’t all guys,” Sam said ignoring Kong. “There’s a spring over at the next group of rocks.”

  “No shit?” Ricochet said in his high-pitched voice. “Damn.”

  Boomer smiled his approval, not at all surprised she’d found a good spot for the rest of the night. He’d expected it.

  Kong still stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at her. Sam just ignored him and began pulling an MRE from her pack. If he wanted a fight, he’d have to pick it. She was too tired.

  “What kind of stunt was that?” he snapped at her.

  Sam froze where she was and looked up at him. “Stunt?”

  “Yeah, stunt. Why didn’t you answer me when I called you?”

  Sam slowly stood, then moved from her spot in the rocks with smooth fluid motion—much like a cat stalking its pray. “I didn’t answer because I was less then ten feet away from the enemy,” she said stopping a few feet away from him.

  Boomer and Ricochet stopped eating and watched. The way she was moving toward Kong caused them alarm. Ricochet expected her to take him down in a blink, but she didn’t.

  “Why were you ten feet away from the enemy? They could have seen you, you put us in jeopardy, not just yourself, the whole team,” Kong barked at her.

  Sam tilted her head to the other side and studied him. Was he serious? “No one but me was in jeopardy and I was careful,” she said in a soft, steady voice. “Are you telling me Bo
omer or Ricochet wouldn’t have done the same thing? They would have just crawled away like a frightened child?”

  Kong felt uneasy by her tone. She wasn’t yelling, but she was mad, there was no question about it. “No,” he growled.

  “But you want me to run and hide. Let me tell you something Lieutenant, since we’ve never worked together before, I’m going to forgive that remark. But be aware, be very aware of the fact that I don’t need a man to protect me. I know my job and I do it well.”

  Kong held her glare for a moment, then continued his interrogation. “Why didn’t you tell us you spoke Afghan?”

  “I don’t.” Sam regretted it as soon as she said it. Her temper was ruling her now and that always led to trouble.

  “Then how the hell did you know what they were saying?”

  Sam just looked at him, then turned and went back to her spot among the rocks. She couldn’t lie to him if she didn’t answer him.

  But Kong wasn’t having it. “Tell me damn it, how the hell did you know they were Taliban, and they were looking for Americans?”

  “I can only ask you to trust me,” Sam said with a softer voice.

  “Trust you? You’re keeping secrets from us and you expect us to trust you? Good one.”

  Instead of Kong’s anger ebbing, it was growing. Was she taking risks with their lives? Sure she kept them away from the Taliban in the desert, but if she couldn’t speak their language, how did she know they were Taliban? Then another thought crossed his mind, one that disturbed him even more. Were there actually men there? Was she working her own agenda on her own private mission? Couple this together with the way she seemed to be talking to someone on the plane and he was sure she was up to no good.

  Kong looked to his two companions, he could tell her “trust me” statement had them disturbed as well. Even Boomer who thought she walked on water seemed perplexed. Well, he’d just have to keep her in his sights tomorrow, let one of the other two take point. That would royally piss her off, but at this point in the game, he didn’t care.

  When he looked back at her, she was eating and paying him no attention. Well, he thought to himself, if that’s the way she wants to play it, so be it. He walked over to the area where Ricochet and Boomer were seated and sat with them.

  “What do you guys think?” he asked in a whisper.

  Ricochet shook his head. “I don’t know man. She’s skilled and from what I hear, damn good at what she does.” He shrugged again. “Still, I don’t like not knowing how she knew who those men were if she doesn’t speak their language.”

  Kong looked at Boomer. “What about you?”

  Boomer sat a moment staring at his meal. He trusted her and from what he’d heard, she’d keep them from getting killed, but something inside him was beginning to doubt. “She hasn’t really let us down yet, has she? I mean, you’re pissed because she did something that any of us would have done. Why is that?”

  “That’s not the point and you know it,” Kong ground out between his teeth.

  Boomer just shrugged. “I think it is. I think you’re looking for something to bust her on and that’s your problem. But I’m like Ricochet, something bothers me.” He shrugged again. “Maybe I’m just tired.”

  “Yeah.” Kong got up and went to retrieve his pack. He took a quick glance over at Sam and saw she seemed to be sleeping. She was stretched out with her bare feet crossed and her left arm was slung over her eyes. Her right hand was lying on her stomach and she was breathing in a deep steady rhythm.

  He stood and watched her for a few moments, taken back by the sight of her. Even though he questioned her motives, his body still reacted to her. Angry with himself, he swore under his breath and returned to his men.

  “Ricochet, you take first watch tonight. Boomer, you take second, I’ll take third,” he said pulling a bottle of water and a granola bar from his pack.

  “What about Sam?” Boomer asked.

  “I’m not sure I trust her to watch over us while we sleep,” Kong replied dryly.

  “Okay boss.” Ricochet stood, grabbing his gun and found a position to watch from. Kong and Boomer settled in for a few hours of rest.

  Sam lay still listening to the men. She knew Kong thought she was asleep and that was the way she wanted it. Tears stung at her eyes while she listened. His words cut deep into her, much like the knife did to her back when she was eight. She had no idea why it mattered so much what he thought of her. But it did. She wanted to cry, she wanted to get up, march over to him and tell him everything about her so he’d understand. But she couldn’t.

  What did it matter anyway? In a few days this would all be over. He’d move on and she’d take another job. Only the next one she would work alone. She’d had enough of teammates to last her a lifetime. All it got her was heartache.

  Clear your mind Samantha. Rest. Tomorrow will be a new day.

  Sam didn’t argue. She just wanted to sleep and disappear into nothing for awhile. Maybe he’d feel differently tomorrow morning. Maybe he’d feel bad for making her feel so alone. Yeah and maybe Bin Laden would walk into camp tonight and surrender. Sam closed her eyes and drifted off into darkness.

  * * * * *

  When it came time for Kong’s turn to watch, he grabbed his pack and gun and sat in the dark.

  He pulled an MRE from his pack and began eating. He always liked having a full stomach before he started out the day. A guy never knew when he’d get to eat again. While he blindly ate his food he thought over the day ahead. He’d put Ricochet on point, followed by Boomer, Sam, then himself. That way he’d be able to keep a close eye on her. Somewhere inside he felt a little guilty about the way he jumped her last night, but he quickly corrected that by reasoning that she had it coming.

  A soft whimper came from behind him. He stopped chewing and listened. When he heard it again, he stood, this time the whimper came along with a gasp. Kong grabbed his gun ready for a fight. As he walked around the group of rocks, he heard a sob. His heart began pumping wildly inside his chest. It was Sam.

  Making his way to the spot where she was sleeping a new wave of feeling flooded through him.

  What if someone made it into camp? If they found her, they’d do horrific things to her. Panic made him crouch down and walk faster. When he reached her, he heard her sob again. She was still asleep, dreaming. He thought about waking her up, but then decided he’d just watch for a while. See what he could learn. Sweat glistened on her forehead in the moonlight, her fists were balled tight and her breathing was shallow. Whatever she was dreaming about had her fighting. In some twisted way, he was proud of that. She even put up a fight in her dreams.

  He watched as her body jerked and twisted. Then he heard her sob, “Mommy.” Her voice was small, meek. Like a child’s. Was this the same dream she had on the plane? Did this have to do with how she lost her parents? Was she haunted by her childhood?

  “No, please. Mommy, Daddy,” Sam whimpered.

  Kong nearly reached out to wake her up, but she jerked her legs up and cried out in pain. It startled him to the point of freezing with his hand in midair. Her breathing became deeper, like she was struggling for breath. Then she bolted upright with a gasp. Her face was pale, sweat trickled down over her skin. Her eyes were open, but she wasn’t awake. Without so much as a word, she flopped down on her back.

  His own heart racing, Kong watched her for a few moments to make sure she was resting. He scrubbed his face with his hands, then stood and went back to his watch spot. God, how awful it must be to be plagued by nightmares every night, he thought to himself. This little ball of fire carried a lot of baggage with her. He wondered if Cannon had any idea she suffered so badly at night, then decided it wasn’t any of his business. In a few days, they’d never see each other again.

  Sam woke drenched in sweat. The sun wasn’t up yet, so she figured she had time to sneak away to wash off in the stream. Remembering that Kong was the one who had last watch, she crawled through the rocks soundlessly. He was t
he last thing she needed at the moment.

  When she reached the stream, she pulled her shirt off, then leaned over the water and began splashing herself. The cold water felt good against her sticky skin. It also soothed the sores the sand had begun to make under her arms and down at her trouser line. When she realized she’d forgotten to bring her first-aid kit with her, she scolded herself for letting Kong distract her.

  Nonetheless, she enjoyed her bath and meant to make the most of it.

  Kong stood to stretch. While he did, he walked over to have a peek at Sam, just to make sure she was resting peacefully. When he saw her spot was empty, panic slapped him. He did a quick look through the rocks, then scanned the open desert. There was no way she could have gotten out of camp without him knowing it, he thought.

  Kong leaned down and shook Ricochet, then Boomer. “Wake up. Sam’s gone,” he told them. “Wake up.”

  “What’d you say?” Ricochet asked.

  “Sam’s gone.”

  Boomer sat straight up, then grabbed for his gun. “How long?”

  “Hell, I don’t know,” Kong grumbled.

  The three men stood looking around. “I’ll go check by the other group of rocks,” Kong said walking away.

  Boomer remembered what she’d said about a stream being over there and shouted after Kong, “Wait, she might be cleaning up in the stream.” But Kong didn’t hear him.

  “Well if she is, we’ll know it soon enough,” Ricochet snickered.

  As Kong got closer to the stream, he saw her. She stood facing it, her bare back to him. With the moon light he could see three large, rough-looking scars on her back. The skin was puckered and pale compared to the rest of her silky smooth back. He sucked in his breath at the sight and knew they were knife wounds. He’d seen those before. Some of his friends had them on their legs and arms, but he’d never seen any on a person’s back.

  Anger welled deep inside, along with that overwhelming, annoying need to protect her. But there was nothing to protect her from. These wounds happened a long time ago and he’d be willing to bet that she repaid the favor. Still, their location was deadly. Two were placed over her lung area and the third was lower on her back. The fact that she survived such a stabbing amazed him.