The Puppetmasters (32 page)

Fields shrugged, and the tension eased a bit. The commander changed course. “Who is Rashid Sharif?”

Fields relaxed. “As far as I know, he’s some sort of adopted son of President Shazeb’s.”

“And what was your interaction with him?”

“Practically nothing. I saw him at the two dinners at the palace. And he drove us to the Afghanistan government building where we were rescued from the rooftop.”

Fields felt no compunction to provide all the information about their prior conversations or the extent of their activities at the AIDC building. At this point, he wasn’t sure who his friends versus enemies were. The fact was that Rashid had looked out for all of the hostages’ interests and had engineered a brilliant exit, complete with slowing down any Afghan military pursuit through sabotage of the Afghanistan infrastructure. As Fields saw it, if Rashid had transferred the bulk of President Shazeb’s personal money into his own accounts—which, of course, he had done—he certainly deserved it. In fact, he would need it to set up a new life. There would be no going back to Afghanistan after the Shazebs died, the AIDC building was destroyed, and the prisoners were rescued. If he
was caught in Afghanistan, it would certainly be a death sentence or worse for Rashid. The young man had Paul Fields’ undying gratitude for getting them out of that hostile country. Fields was not about to give him up.

Commander Reichenfeld had been observing the emotions play out on Fields’ face. “Was there something else you wanted to tell us?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. I do not have to answer any of your questions. I haven’t done anything wrong. I demand to speak to the U.S. Government at once.”

The commander gave Fields a cold stare. “Do not play games with me, Mr. Fields. If you are hiding something, I will find out. We have every right to keep you for as long as we wish. May I remind you that you arrived here without the proper documentation. You are not in possession of a passport, correct?”

Paul Fields returned the commander’s steely gaze. “And I, too, am not without resources. I bet the U.S. already knows we are here. Israel is playing a dangerous game. The world will not be on your side.” Fields hoped to hell that
Prophecy
was being used at this very moment to track them down.

That statement gave the commander pause. Perhaps he had pushed a bit too far. He sat back and changed his demeanor, “Oh come now, Mr. Fields. We are on the same side. Let’s be friends. I have something to show you.”

The Israeli naval officers re-played the evening’s speech by General Omar to the Afghanistan people and the world. Fields’ mind reeled at the news. He was astonished that the entire Shazeb household was dead, that the palace had been bombed, that Israel’s presence somehow escaped undetected during the pandemonium, and that the Orion people, Rashid, and the U.S. was being blamed for the destruction and ensuing chaos. Fields was, for the first time, at a loss for words.

Commander Reichenfeld gave a conciliatory smile. “So, you see, Mr. Fields, that Israel has seemingly had no part in the events of the day in Afghanistan. All we did was rescue some American hostages after receiving a distress call. We have no knowledge of who bombed the AIDC building, killed the Shazeb family, or destroyed their palace.” He sat back with a smug smile.

Fields didn’t know what to think about the speech by that raving lunatic, General Omar. But he certainly knew that Israel had been behind their rescue … and its planning. However, he wasn’t about to argue the point with Reichenfeld.

Fields got the distinct impression that Israel was about to serve up Rashid’s head on a platter. What the hell had the young man done to earn Israel’s wrath? Of course! It was the money. Israel had counted on getting hundreds of millions of dollars and instead came away with maybe ten million dollars, just like Rashid planned.

“Commander Reichenfeld, why is your carrier in the Arabian Sea, off the coast of Pakistan?”

“We were patrolling in international waters, and came to the kidnapped Americans’ aid.”

“Did you notify the U.S. of the distress call?”

“Time was of the essence, Mr. Fields. We were told there was a critically ill or injured American who was in need of immediate medical attention. We stepped up to assist after ascertaining that we were not walking into an ambush. We are now ready to hold our own press conference.”

The commander looked pointedly at Paul Fields and said, “Mr. Fields, for the good of the world, you must not discuss the facts that you believe you possess. There is more going on than you realize. For that reason, the less you say the better. A lot of people will be harmed—maybe even countries—if you go into detail. General Omar is threatening war on any parties to the bombings and deaths in Afghanistan. May I remind you that every nation now has nuclear weapons.”

Fields understood the gravity of the situation. He wished he was privy to more. “But what about Kendall Radcliffe?”

“She will be an unfortunate casualty to the events. Basically, collateral damage. I know. It’s terrible and certainly wasn’t intended. But what’s done is done. Let’s move on!”

Fields just wanted the whole thing to end. He was sick of the politics and the endless lies and machinations. He would do anything, play any part, if it got him off the damn carrier and home to his family and Seattle. He toned down his petulance and quietly asked, “May I see Glenn Carson now?”

“Absolutely! You may go with First Officer Baum.”

Consulting his watch, he continued, “The press conference will take place in about an hour.”

Paul Fields rose and followed the first officer to the door. “Mr. Fields?”

The Orion CEO turned and looked at the commander. “Do I have your word that your knowledge of the facts as relayed to the world will be broad and brief?”

Fields looked as if he was going to say something but didn’t. “Yes, Commander. You have my word.” Under his breath, he muttered to himself, “… for now.”

With that, the two men made their way to the carrier’s on-board hospital. Fields was vastly relieved when he saw a little color in Carson’s cheeks. Carson was even partially conscious and squeezed his hand. He couldn’t speak, but Fields could see that he was getting excellent medical care and would most certainly survive.

Fields looked over at the two doctors discussing Carson’s care, and saw that one was the Afghanistan doctor, Maysah Siddra. He was struck at how happy and content she seemed. She must have really wanted out of Afghanistan.

He stayed with Carson for thirty minutes and then was ushered back to his room for a brief snack and to prepare for the press conference. As he munched absent-mindedly on his cheese, crackers, and grapes, he vowed to do everything he could to find out what happened to Kendall—after he got back to Seattle. But for today’s show, he would be a gracious guest of Israel and, as requested, feign no knowledge of the details of the kidnapping or rescue other than the obvious.

As for Afghanistan, Fields hoped the country exploded in a rage at the mismanagement and brutality of the military advisors and ruling party at the top. He would personally do everything he could to foment that rage. The ravaged country deserved an honorable and just leader who loved his country and treated its people and land with dignity and respect. It was a sad and courageous country that had seen too many wars since ancient times.

Fields pledged to put
Prophecy
to work as soon as he returned to the States. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. His face was very sore after shaving for the first time in weeks. He was provided with a slightly large but new pair of jeans and a starched oxford shirt.

He was not the same man who had gotten on that ill-fated flight from Washington, DC. No one would be after what he had been through. He could still hear the horrible screams from the prisoners in the courtyard beyond his room. He was going to do something about it. Somehow, the Orion day-to-day business no longer mattered. He might even give up his CEO title.

A knock sounded at his door, and his escort appeared. Fields sighed and followed him out the door.

He felt like he was about to “walk the plank.” His footsteps were heavy in the narrow corridor. As he stepped into the well-lit, plush executive conference room, he had a moment of fright at the number of Israeli officers that had been summoned to witness the event. The video equipment was ready and standing by for hookup to the remote satellite feed. Paul Fields, CEO of Orion Premier Net Service, stood next to Commander Tzuk Reichenfeld at the podium, with his subordinates flanking him and Fields on the right and left. The countdown began, and the screens around the room activated.

Fields wanted to turn and run.

K
ENDALL’S EYES WERE SQUEEZED SHUT,
and she was pressed into the back of the hidden closet space as far as she could go. When the door slid open, her heart skipped a beat. Rashid let out a whoop as Poya’s grinning face appeared before them. There were cheers all around, and Rashid and Kendall scrambled out of their dark refuge.

Poya gave them each a big hug. Rashid knelt down and put his hands on Poya’s shoulders. “Boy, am I glad to see you! I was so worried you were caught in the fire.”

Poya nodded excitedly and said, “Did you think I was the
babalu?”

Rashid laughed and ruffled his hair. “No, I didn’t think you were the bogeyman. But how did you get away? How did you survive the fire? What happened?”

Jangi insisted that they return to the evening meal. The table was reset to include the three of them. Poya was obviously starving. He dug right in, and for once, was not shy about it. He tried to speak and eat at the same time, and finally Rashid insisted that he finish eating before he told his story. Finally, the meal was over and the dishes cleaned up.

Poya was feeling right at home and began tussling with Jangi’s boys. Rashid could hardly contain himself. He wanted the details of Poya’s escape so badly. “Poya, come over here and sit next to me. Tell us what happened at the palace!”

The boy sobered dramatically as his mind took him back to the last evening. His eyes got wide as he looked at Rashid. “I was on the other side of the stable when a bright light burst in the sky. It came down with a boom right on top of the grand house. There were flames everywhere.”

Rashid grabbed his arm and began to examine him. “Were you hurt?”

Poya laughed and scrambled out of his grasp. “No, Rashid. I was very brave. There was much commotion. I put the rest of my stuff in the car and took the back road—like you said—that came out on the main road a ways down from
the palace. It was so dark, and I kept the headlights off, so no one saw me. They weren’t paying attention anyway. There were little fires everywhere.

Kendall was astonished at his story. “But you are only twelve. And you can drive?”

The men and boys gave a collective laugh. Jangi, feeling comfortable around the strangers, burst into the conversation with, “But Miss Kendall, all boys learn to drive after ten … especially around here. They must help their fathers on the farm. They learn to drive the tractor first.”

She gave a nod of understanding but remarked reprovingly, “But so far, Poya. You drove for hours!”

He nodded, very pleased with himself. “Yes, I did,
Khala-Auntie
Kendall. Rashid told me to leave as soon as you all left. I was hanging out by the back door of the kitchen and heard the gunshots and yelling. Then you all left, and I ran through the dark gardens back to the stable, where my car was pretty much ready to go.”

Jangi’s eldest son was very impressed with Poya’s independence and sense of self at such a young age. He was eager to hear more. “What did you do then? Did you come straight here?”

Poya laughed, engagingly. “No. I went to the house of the palace’s butcher in Kabul, Yuhannis. He supplies all the meat for the palace. I am often the one to go pick it up. I know him well. Yuhannis and his family are friends of mine. I eat there all the time.”

Rashid winked at Kendall and smiled knowingly. It dawned on her that Rashid had purposely brought about the relationship and then stoked it, so Poya would always have a “friend” to run to. He was watching her, and added softly, “That’s also why I made sure he had a car that was sturdy and reliable, so he could run errands.”

Now Jangi’s youngest son—who was near Poya’s age—was impatient to hear more. “Keep going. When did you leave Kabul?”

Poya scratched his head, remembering the details. He appeared wise beyond his years. “Rashid told me not to start my trip until first light. The butcher made sure I had a full tank of gas, and then I headed straight here. I didn’t stop once.”

Kendall wanted every detail and looked at Rashid. “You must have arranged for Poya to come here before we even knew we weren’t being rescued?”

He nodded. “Yes, I did. I needed to make sure Poya would be looked after by good people.” He smiled at Jangi and his family. “This is the best Afghanistan family I could think of. I knew he would be safe here and that he would not be mistreated.”

“But how did he know how to get here?”

“I drew him a map awhile back and explained exactly where to go. I also gave him Jangi’s name.”

“But weren’t you afraid he would be stopped and searched or taken into custody and interrogated?”

“Yes,” he replied solemnly. “I was terrified of that.” But his face broke into a huge, relieved grin that made his eyes crinkle. “God kept him safe. I am thankful.”

But there was one question he had to ask. He was very serious when he sighed and began, “Poya, what happened to Taheem? Did he get away?”

The young boy shook his head. “I don’t know, Rashid. He was in the kitchen when I went into the garden.”

Poya couldn’t bear any more sorrow. He looked at Jangi, and with much respect stated,
“Kaka,
I have brought you a gift. It’s in the car.”

Rashid was glad that Poya referred to Jangi as
Kaka,
or Uncle. The young man was clearly accepting the elder as the respected member of the family. In his young life, Poya had met many a man who was not worthy of being called
Kaka.
They all trooped out to Poya’s car, and Kendall was surprised to see that it was a white old Toyota Corolla.