Desperate Situations (8 page)

She seemed sad. He couldn't figure her out. She seemed tougher
than nails, yet the brown eyes revealed the fact that she cared deeply about things―first and foremost, the welfare of her crew.

He had been walking down the hall before the meeting when he heard her arguing with Masood about days off. Masood wanted them to work, but she stood her ground. They would do her no
good if they were tired and on edge, she reasoned. If they needed to work on a mission, she knew she could rely on them for weeks, but this was a stupid reason to stretch her crew. She won in the end. Jake had been impressed. He wanted to tell her, but every time he tried to approach on a personal level, she responded with anger.

He grabbed the bottle off the roof and poured her a shot. Without asking, he handed it to her. "To living another day."

Megan glanced at him. She raised the glass and with a motion that demonstrated practice, tossed it back.

Jake hesitated
, then with a smile, tossed his back.

"Good stuff," Megan whispered as the effect of the strong alcohol took her breath away.

"Yeah. My friend doesn't buy cheap." Jake poured himself another one. "Another?"

Megan hesitated. "Sure."

Once more they tossed the shots back. Jake smiled. "You're not inexperienced in drinking."

"Poker nights with military guys. I learned from the best."

Jake laughed. "We do know how to drink."

"And lose money." Megan turned her attention back to the mountains.

Without asking, he poured her another.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, McGrew?"

"Jake."

"Let's stick with Cupcake."

"Fine, Chief," Jake said, pointing with his glass toward the mountains. "A sad memory?"

"They kinda look like home." She sighed again.

"And that would be where?"

Megan glanced at him. "The United States."

"Well, that does narrow it down," Jake said with a smile.

"Idaho."

"Ah!"

"The Sawtooth Mountains. Similar in nature." She also pointed with the glass to the now darkening mountains. She tossed this drink back then handed the glass back to him. "Thanks."

"You can have more if you want. I'm not saving it for any special occasion."

"Nope. Too many drinks and I loose my inhibitions."

"Sounds like fun."

Megan snorted. Her eyes drifted once more to the mountains. A shooting star caught her eye and she glanced up.

Jake followed her glance to see the stars starting to twinkle. When he glanced back she began tearing up.

She cleared her throat quickly and stood up.
"Enjoy the view, Cupcake."

Jake stood with her. "Chief
―Megan, you seem sad. Want to talk about it?"

"Nope." Megan started to move away
, but his hand on her arm stopped her.

"Look, I know what it's like to be alone. Being the only woman on base and in char
ge, well, it's got to be tough. I've been told I'm a good listener."

Megan raised her eyes to meet his. "Thanks but no."

Jake stared into her eyes. He could tell she was torn up about something. Every now and then his sisters would get the same attitude. Maybe he should try a tactic that worked with them. "Then, would a hug help?" He lifted his arms.

Her
eyes softened, and tears formed in them again. "Sure." She leaned into him, putting her arms around him.

Jake encircled her with his arms and gave a slight squeeze. His eyebrows arched. She had body armor on underneath her large shirt. He could also feel her shaking as she laid her head on his chest. He held on to her
, waiting until she was ready to break contact.

Megan patted his back and let go. She wiped her tears. Taking a step back, she studied the rooftop. Finally she looked up. "Thanks."

"Anytime."

With a soft smile, she headed away.

"Hey, Megan."

"Yeah?" She turned.

"Out of curiosity." He sat down, reaching for his glass. "Why do you have on body armor, off duty and on base?"

She stepped back. "Three reasons. One, it's habit. I almost feel naked without it. Two, for protection. Believe it or not, I have a lot of enemies. And three, it hides the fact that I'm a woman. I can, if I dress the right way, blend in as a man. About the only time I don't wear it is in my room."

Jake nodded in thanks.

"Have a good evening, Cupcake."

Jake winked. "You too, Chief."

After she left, his eyes turned to the darkening mountains. There was one last stray ray of sunlight peaking out from behind the foothills giving just a touch of pink to the surrounding area. He poured another glass and toasted silently the last visual scene, a smile playing on his lips. The hug had worked. This was the first time they had been on a first name basis.

***

The next afternoon Jake was walking down Chicken Street with Gunner shopping for gifts for their families. Chicken Street was the main market street near the base. They stopped twice to sample local food
: very spicy, yet good. Gunner enjoyed it immensely. Jake was polite, but it just wasn't his thing.

The market was similar to those in Iraq, only the streets were more littered with trash and some of the buildings were bombed out
, many having never been rebuilt after the fighting.

Traffic was mostly bicycles and foot traffic, although the occasional Toyota rambled by. Jake made a comment to Cowboy as the group left the front gate about the weird fact that there were a lot of white Toyotas in Kabul. Cowboy merely laughed in answer.

Now they were in a rug shop. Gunner was negotiating with the shop owner on a particularly stunning rug. Jake looked at a few, considering buying one for his mom but decided to wait. He might find something better later on.

He stepped out of the shop and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking around the street. Two young street urchins, boys age seven or eight, immediately accosted him wanting a handout of money. Neither looked like they had eaten in weeks, but he knew once he started handing out money, he'd be swamped.

Jake held out his hands and shook his head no, then he held up one finger in the universal sign for 'wait.' Being in Iraq prepared him for this. He pulled out two Dumdum suckers and handed each kid one. Their eyes lit up and smiles adorned their faces. Although not better than money, it was a unique gift from a foreigner.

They thanked him heartily in their language
. Even though Jake couldn't understand them, it was obvious that's what they were saying. Then they hurried off, their prizes stuck firmly in their pockets.

Jake smiled, watching them run off. He liked making kids happy, not to mention that kids in Afghanistan had witness
ed many atrocities and anytime someone could provide them with a little pleasure it was always appreciated. He went back to watching people in the area with his hands in his pockets.

A white Toyota pulled up down the street that caught his attention. He nonchalantly watched it. Two men stepped out. One was dressed in traditional pants with
a long vest garment. His hat was the round, flat type worn by most Afghans in Kabul. The other was dressed in a more traditional Muslim way. He had a full beard and turban.

Jake
was puzzled.
Something isn't right.
The fully dressed man was very short and his walk familiar. Both men looked to be nervous and entered a jeweler's shop.

Jake turned to see Gunner walking out with a medium sized, rolled up rug draped over his shoulder. He smiled at the Chilean. "Haggled him down, huh?"

Gunner smiled. "I learn from bestest in Iraq."

"The Iraqis are shrewd negotiators."

Gunner nodded then hefted the rug to a more comfortable position. "However, I miscounted."

"Miscounted?" Jake asked.

"Very heavy. Cannot walk all day with rug. Must take back to base."

Jake did a silent 'Ah hah
.' "You meant miscalculated."

"That too." Gunner smiled thanks to the American. He told Jake to correct his English. He wanted to be able to speak flawless English by the time his contract was up. "We go?" He thumbed back toward the White Pine compound. "We come back then."

Jake stopped Gunner with his hand. "Let's check out one more shop, then we'll head back. Okay?"

"Yes. That is okay."

Jake led the way down the street toward the jeweler's shop. After crossing the street and dodging bicycles, they came to the run down shop. Grimy, dust covered windows obscured some of the merchandise, but several beautiful pieces of jewelry could be seen. Jake was amazed at the artistry. He pointed at one and looked at Gunner.

"Most beautifly."

"Beautiful," Jake corrected. "Yes, it is. I think my oldest sister would love this piece or something like it."

"How many sisters do you have?" Gunner asked leaning closer to the glass.

"Five."

Gunner chuckled. "And other, uh, brothers?"

"None. I was the only boy. Four older sisters, one younger sister."

"I am sorry."

Jake laughed. "Yeah. Tell me about it. You? Siblings?"

"Two brothers survived. One sister. She is married and has three children. Her husband dead and she now lives with my parents. I am baby," Gunner said. "I send her rug to put on floor of her room. I wait here. Rug big for store."

"I'll be right back." Jake stepped into the store and waited for a few seconds letting his eyes adjust to the dimmer interior. It was empty except for the clerk.

Immediately the store clerk stepped up to wait on him. He smiled broadly and waved to the display,
inquiring if Jake wanted to buy something. The store was darker than Jake anticipated, and smaller, but lined with display cases overflowing with jewelry of all sorts.

"Lovely stuff," Jake said with a smile, knowing the guy probably couldn't speak English. He pointed at the piece in the window. "Can I see it?" He pointed at his eyes then the piece again.

The clerk nodded his head as he reached for the necklace. He handed Jake the item. The clerk's smile got even bigger with pride as he patted himself on the chest and pointed at the piece. Jake took it to mean that the guy probably made it. He went back to looking at the necklace.

What caught his eye in the window was the incredible deep blue of the stone and the symmetrical beads cut from it. There were dozens of round, identical blue beads each separated by a small bead of silver. At the clasp was a stone about the size of a thumb with streaks of gold flecks in it. This was encased in a bed of silver. Jake studied the clasp and noticed that it looked like the necklace could be worn with the pendant on or off, as the clasp was an integral part of both sides of the pendant.

"What is it made of?" Jake asked, holding the necklace up. "Uh…"

The clerk seemed to understand the puzzled look on Jake's face. He rattled off something then pointed at the blue beads. "Lapis Lazuli." He made motions of mining and pointed toward the north. He imitated the carving of said beads then patted himself on the chest.

Jake rubbed the smooth blue stone. He nodded approvingly. "How much?" Then he indicated money.

The clerk rattled something off
, then reached into the display and pulled out a card to show the price writing in Afghanistan currency. The card had been hidden by another piece.

Jake almost gave the piece back but the look of pride in the clerk's eyes was so
prominent that Jake didn't even haggle. It was still cheap for a piece of this quality, even in U.S. dollars. He reached into his pants and pulled out a roll of local currency, counting off the correct number.

As he did so, the clerk reverently wrapped the piece in a red silk cloth and tied it with gold colored string. He held it out for Jake to inspect.

Jake looked up from his counting, pausing. The wrapping itself was a work of art. Jake smiled at the guy letting him know that it was beautiful too. He handed the money over and took the necklace with a slight bow.

Again the clerk's eyes beamed with pride.

Jake waved goodbye, and as he left he said with another slight bow, "I'll be back."

The clerk gave a slight bow back.

Jake stopped outside the shop. "Gunner, look at this."

"That is… goodly wrapped. Is it the necklace from the window?"

Jake nodded. "I almost don't want to send it to my sister. I bet she won't even unwrap it." He smiled at Gunner.

At that moment, the door opened behind him and he moved off to the side so that whoever was coming out could leave. He turned to see that it was the guys who had entered the shop earlier.

Jake was momentarily puzzled. He'd been so distracted by the necklace that he forgot the main reason for going into the shop. But they had not been in the store.
They must have been in the back or somewhere.

The regularly dressed guy looked at them then hurried toward the truck. The other, more traditionally dressed Muslim man, came out second and almost ran into Jake because he was tucking a bundle of papers into the folds of his clothes. Their eyes met and the Afghanistan quickly looked down. He mumbled something.

Jake froze.
Have I met this guy before?
Something about him looked familiar, but Jake just couldn't place it. Still the feeling that he knew this guy was instant and gut wrenching. He watched as the guy hurried to the truck, which quickly pulled away.

"Jake?"

"I…" Jake shook his head and glanced around the area out of habit. "Too weird."

"What? Is everything good?"

"Yeah." Jake glanced back to where the truck had disappeared. "Just a feeling that I know that guy, the one with the turban."

"You come here before?"

"No. That's the weird thing." Jake shook himself again, then motioned for Gunner. "Let's head back to base. After putting our stuff away, Cowboy gave me directions to a good restaurant. Are you up for an adventure?"

"Most goodly," Gunner said with a nod.

Jake smiled. "How about we see if we can't find someone else to go with us? We know that Cowboy is out. How about Megan?"

"She not come off base often."

"Yeah, I know, but she needs to get out."

"We all invited to big feast, last day of Independence. She go then. I bet she no go now," Gunner said even as they started the trek back to the base. They were two miles from the compound.

"You're probably right but…" He winked at Gunner. "All work and no play, makes the Chief an unhappy camper."

"What? I do not understand. What is 'camper'?"

Jake chuckled. "Never mind. Let's see if we can't find her anyway."

"Most goodly."

But Megan was nowhere to be found. No one knew where she could be. Jake met back with Gunner after each had searched part of the compound. He frowned as they paused at the gate.

"I wonder where she is?" Jake asked looking back toward the main hanger.

Gunner shifted his weight on his feet. "Come. We go. I get hungry. Megan be okay by herself. She goodly at doing that."

Jake nodded absentmindedly. "Yeah."

They left the compound again, and as they walked Jake couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen something of importance. For some reason, those two guys were up to something. He didn't know what, but he knew that it was something. And he also knew without a doubt that he knew the turbaned guy.

***

The next day Jake, Cowboy and Gunner were en route to a different shop on Chicken Street. It sold mostly stone statues. As they walked, they talked about their home lives.

"She loves stone carvings. Bess is such a push over," Cowboy said.

"How many years are you being married?" Gunner asked.

"Twelve." Cowboy stopped briefly to look into a shop window that sold scarves. He looked at Gunner. "No little ones. I'm gone too much for'em. This is my last year workin' with White Pine. I miss ma home."

"Me miss family, but pay is goodly," Gunner said with a huge smile.

Cowboy nodded. "Ain't that the truth." He turned to Jake as they neared the shop. "Lookin' for anything special, Jake?"

"No. I need to get something for each of my sisters, my Mom and Dad. Maybe a statue. I sent all my sisters a scarf from Iraq." He rubbed his stubbly chin. White Pine encouraged the growth of beards as it was the local custom. Jake still hadn't decided if he wanted one or not. "How long have you worked for White Pine?"

Cowboy thought for a few seconds. "Too long. Too many scary ass missions." Then he smiled. "Four years. Like I said, this is my last. After Affie here, I'ma headin
' home. I know that I can always pick up a job flyin' for someone, somewhere."

"How long have you been flying with Megan?"

"All four years. She needed a co-pilot and I had just signed up. Scared the shit outta me. Thought I was gonna die the first time out with her." Cowboy started laughing. "Been an adventure since. Ain't no borin' times with Megan."

Gunner nodded in agreement. "She make working a goodly time."

They laughed, weaving their way down the street around people. In waves, the young street urchins begged. Cowboy was fond of giving coins to the kids and they were always followed by a few.

"Here 'tis, gentlemen. The guy usually has some local glassware from Herat, too." Cowboy walked into the store
ahead of the others.

Jake was the last in and the owner of the shop was hurrying from the back with a huge smile on his face. He noticed that Cowboy and the owner embraced in the local greeting
of kissing both cheeks. The man greeted Gunner in the same way. Jake followed suit, although more uncomfortable.

"Come. Enter." The shop owner
opened his hands. Then he motioned to Cowboy to wait. He hurried into the back then came out with a small statue. "You may like, Cowboy. I save for you. Is…." The owner struggled with the English but handed the statue over.

"Wow!" Cowboy looked at the statue. It was of one of the local sheep, an ibex mother and baby
, standing on a mountainside looking down, carved out of white stone. "This is beautiful."

Jake wandered around the shop look
ing at various items. He'd have to keep this shop in mind for gifts too. The quality was excellent. Finally, he purchased a small snow leopard carving for his Dad then exited to stand and watch people again.

As he stood there, he was again accosted by street kids and handed out suckers. His sisters always sent candy. He had mentioned once, while in Iraq, that he had given candy to local kids and the reception he had gotten. Since then, every box from home contained hard candy
, bags and bags of candy.

Laughter caught his attention down the street
, and he noticed a group of men smoking and drinking. The men were sipping from small glasses in front of a chai khanas or tea house.

There were seven
of them, mostly in the traditional garb. Three wore longer robes and turbans. They were arguing. Two in particular were actively discussing something and pointing north.

Jake narrowed his eyes as one of the turbaned men turned to spit in the street. It was the same guy from the white Toyota. Jake stepped back into the alcove made by the stone shop and riveted his attention on the group.

The man from yesterday was not speaking but listening intently, sipping occasionally at the tea. He was not smoking. That was odd, because most everyone in the country did and tobacco was widely used by the adult population.

Jake stared.
I know this guy
. His feelings from yesterday were confirmed. As Jake stood there, he ran though his mind everyone on base, comparing them with the turbaned guy down the street. No one matched. Then he compared this guy with men from Iraq. Nothing.

Finally, some sort of agreement
was reached because the discussion went back to more civil tones and gestures. The turbaned man now nodded at someone who turned to him. He pointed toward the north and whatever he said caused the group to laugh. A quick drink emptied his cup. The man stood along with one of the others and exchanged embraces.

As the two men waited at the corner, Jake stepped out of the shop to get a better look. At that moment, the turbaned guy looked down the street and their eyes met. And in that look, from two blocks away, Jake saw recognition dawn in the guy's eyes. He said something to his companion. They hurried across the street and disappeared into the crowd.

Jake stepped farther into the street but lost them amid shoppers. He swallowed nervously.
What is going on?

Gunner stepped into the street and saw Jake frozen. He looked in the same direction. "Is everything good?"

"Yeah. I saw that same guy from yesterday."

"The man in the…" Gunner motioned at his head.

"The turban. Yeah."

"Maybe you tell Megan about it. She in charge," Gunner said with a frown.

"Maybe," Jake said, seeing Cowboy finishing up, package in hand.

Later that night, Jake found Megan in her office reading paperwork. He lightly tapped on the door frame.

"Yeah?" She looked up.

He walked in and sat down in the chair. "I've been looking for you."

"Oh yeah?" Megan relaxed back. "Why?"

Jake smiled. "We're having an impromptu basketball game and looking for another player, if you can handle a ball."

"Pass," Megan said looking Jake in the eyes. "I was never good at sports."

Jake shook his head. With her body and quickness with her hands and feet in the aircraft, he bet she was a star athlete. "I doubt that."

Megan merely chuckled.

"I also…" Jake stood, closed the door to her office
, then reseated himself. "I saw something today that…I don't know. If I were in Iraq, I'd report it to my commander. So, I guess that's you."

Megan's eye turned wary. "Yeah?"

"Yesterday and today, I saw something that seemed suspicious."

"Like?"

"A guy wearing a turban was acting, I don't know, strange."

"How
strange? You've got to be more specific. What did he do?" Megan asked, drumming her fingers.

Jake sighed softly. "That's just it. He did nothing
specifically wrong."

"But?"

"Yeah. But, I know something is wrong. My gut's telling me something's up."