The Puppetmasters (50 page)

Kendall’s eyes got wide as she realized this was the closest they had gotten to a search helicopter. She tried to crane her neck to see the helicopter, but Rashid pulled her up against his chest and hissed in her ear. “Kendall, stop it! Do I need to remind you that these guys fully intend to shoot us on sight?”

“Well, they’re going to have to get a lot closer in order to shoot us.”

He was annoyed that she would even think of arguing with him. He squeezed her arm and responded, “They don’t have to shoot us! They would spot our movement and bomb us to hell! Is that what you want?”

She got the message and stopped squirming. They must not have been spotted, because the aircraft’s presence seemed to be merely a fly-by. It buzzed by them and continued on its way.

Rashid was disappointed they had not made very good progress today. The going was rough, and he had been warned. But still, it was aggravating that their efforts seemed to have been wasted. That night they camped at a rocky outcrop that included a cave. Their campsite overlooked a lush, green steppe. Herds of
yaks and ibex roamed the nearby rocks and grazing grounds below. They even saw a few funny-looking long-haired sheep.

Kendall pointed their way. “What are those goat-like things with the large corkscrew horns?”

“Those are
markhor.
The name means something like snake killer. Local superstition has it that the
markhor
can kill a snake and eat it. And then when the cud is being chewed, a foamy stuff comes out of its mouth and falls on the ground. The substance dries and then the local people pick it up and use it on snakebites to extract the poison.”

“Gross.” She squinted as she peered through the binoculars at the strange-looking goat creature. “It looks like the males and females both have horns.”

“Exactly. Except the females have a reddish coat and are smaller and have no mane.”

“If you noticed, we’re out of the high country now. We’ve been traveling all day in a scrub forest of mostly junipers, pines, and oak trees. That’s why we’re seeing different wildlife than before.”

“Yeah, I had noticed that. We seem to have lost a lot of elevation today. That’s a good thing. We’re closer to Mazar-e-Sharif, right?”

“Yes, but we didn’t go that far today. It will take us all day tomorrow to get there. We’ll have to be extra careful and stay out of plain sight.”

She nodded. As they settled in to their camp for the night, Rashid spotted a different kind of manna growing nearby. “Come, look, Kendall. We can eat this.” Spying the strange-looking lump of cream-colored stuff with something that looked like nuts on the inside, she wrinkled her nose. “What is it?”

“It’s called
shir khesht.
It means ‘dried milk.’” He picked up a chunk of the stuff and handed it to Kendall, urging her to eat it.

She slowly put it in her mouth and savored all the different textures and tastes. “Weird! It’s kind of gummy and sweet and it melts in your mouth. It has a menthol sensation. And I taste some honey or lemon.”

“Exactly. It’s apparently supposed to have medicinal qualities.”

Kendall thoroughly enjoyed watching the wildlife around them. But they kept their guns at the ready just in case one of the curious jackals or caracals caught their scent. Rashid began the mental preparation for their re-emergence into civilization. “Kendall, you need to dress differently tomorrow. Since we may make Mazar-e-Sharif by nightfall, you should go back to wearing the robes and cover your head completely.”

She frowned. During the mountain trek, she had gotten away with loose flowing clothing and a scarf. It suddenly occurred to her that none of the nomadic tribal women they had encountered so far wore the traditional full robes.

Rashid watched her facial expressions as she processed the new information. He put up his hands. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s for your own good, and will keep us safe and away from scrutiny.”

“I get it!” she said, thoroughly irritated at the reproving, but much-earned tone in his voice. She was quiet the rest of the evening as she anticipated their last day on the road. It hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected. Taking stock of their encounters along the way, she had to admit that it had not been dull. Though they were on the run, and some of the time had been downright terrifying, she had felt safe around Rashid, and was deeply indebted to him for her safe travels so far. She would miss him and wondered what would become of him. He didn’t belong in her world, and yet he had nothing he could call his own to go to. She felt her spirits plummeting at the thought of his future.

Rashid sensed her somber mood and sought to lift her spirits. “Kendall, did you know there is skiing in the lower mountains just above Bamiyan?”

She clapped her hands and laughed. “No way! Too funny. Tell me more.”

“Well, it’s in the
Koh-e-Baba
mountain range. People stay in rented huts or go on day trips. You can arrange alpine trips across the tops of some of the lower ranges. You can also ski right to the Band-e-Amir Lakes, which are frozen during the winter.”

“Wow! I would love to see that.”

“The only ski shop and snow guides in the entire country are in Bamiyan.”

“Amazing! That’s the only place in Afghanistan where you can ski?”

“Yeah, weird isn’t it, given the mountainous quality of Afghanistan? Actually, there is skiing just northeast of Afghanistan in the Wakhan corridor. But that land is really between Pakistan, Tajikistan, and China. Up that high, you’re in glacier country. But it’s still good cross-country skiing, so I’ve heard.”

Kendall was very interested in the conversation and relaxed visibly. But she was not aware of her surroundings, having lost herself in the tales of local legends and mountaineering activities. As she listened enthralled at a particularly gripping story, she felt a slight movement on her shoulder and absentmindedly reached back to scratch the tickling sensation.

Rashid’s eyes fixed on her face. In a matter-of-fact but unnatural tone, he said, “Kendall, do not move at all.” She instantly felt fear and a prickling sensation at her shoulder. His eyes locked onto hers, willing her to remain calm and still. He slowly rose and leaned toward her.

I
T WAS LATE IN THE
day when Captain Qadi got the news that the three missing soldiers had been found literally in the jaws of a pack of jackals that had smelled their rotting corpses and dragged them out from under the bushes. As the grisly scene was described to the captain, the dead soldiers were each killed with a single shot to the back of the head. The young soldier on site gave his opinion that the scene didn’t make sense. The deceased had to have been lined up, yet ambushed. After the first shot, the other two should’ve moved. Therefore, he reasoned, the shooter was an expert marksman who got off three precision shots that accurately hit its mark each time.

The captain replayed the scene in his head. For the soldiers to have been lined up, they must have captured one of the fleeing pair. If both had been captured, the soldiers would’ve surrounded them. So, as Qadi reasoned, while one person was captured, the other must have snuck up behind the soldiers and shot all three, sniper style.

Up until now, General Omar and his troops had never given Kendall any credit for intelligence or the ability to shoot. But Captain Qadi came to the slow realization that Kendall had to have been the shooter. If she had been captured alone, the troops would’ve been less disciplined and certainly would not have been standing in firing squad formation. If Rashid had been cornered, the troops most certainly would’ve been on the highest alert and conducted themselves as such.

The captain sighed and picked up the phone to alert General Omar. The older man was enraged. He demanded to know how this could’ve happened. He was prepared to have Qadi removed from his position and severely punished as an example of the consequences of incompetence, for the rest of the troops. But when the captain relayed how Kendall was the shooter—and a sharpshooter at that—the general realized they had underestimated her. The search teams were badly misinformed and did not have all the relevant information. He now had to factor that in to their current plans and adjust the
mission going forward. The young Captain Qadi was praised for getting to the bottom of this shocking news item.

A communiqué went out to all Afghanistan military and the public that Kendall was a deadly killer and should be treated as a high-caliber criminal. General Omar figured that either Kendall learned everything from Rashid or, more likely, was part of the kidnap scenario to get herself into Afghanistan. He advised the troops that she was most likely a CIA operative and was to be taken alive at all cost. Any soldier caught killing her would be severely punished. A separate bounty was now issued for Kendall. Her status had been raised in the eyes of the Afghan military.

General Omar’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of personally meting out the punishment to Kendall when she was caught. First, she would be interrogated and tortured to within an inch of her life, and then she would be allowed to recover somewhat, all while she was being abused on a nightly basis. Then she would be shot and finally beheaded. He was salivating at the vision in his head.

The military leader decided that Rashid was a dupe who had fallen for Kendall—the temptress—and would simply be killed as soon as he was found. The young man fleeing for his life was no longer of use or interest to Omar. Rashid’s stock had sunk; he was not being given credit for any of the current mess of the last couple weeks, other than to comply with the instructions from others. Kendall was really the mastermind behind all of it. After all, she wasn’t an Afghanistan citizen. Whatever her original mission was, Omar thought, Rashid had become bedazzled with her charm and lost his head in the process, allowing such horrible things to happen to the now-deceased president and his family.

General Omar felt better and more confident now that he knew the truth and the mission was refocused. His intense hatred was now directed tenfold at Kendall.

Mickey cajoled his sister, Caitlin, into staying in Maysah Siddra’s condo with her for the first month. He had to promise all sorts of things to get her to put her own life on hold for a little while. But it wasn’t like she had a job or place of her own yet. She had just finished her Master’s program at the nearby University of Washington, was staying with Mickey, and hadn’t decided if she was going to get a full-time job or go abroad for a year. Her brother desperately needed her help, and he knew he could trust her to look after Dr. Siddra and be a sort of companion for a little while. Once the pretty young doctor was comfortable moving about the city, improving her English, and maybe even getting a driver’s license, then the pressure would be off Caitlin and she could resume her normal routine. She had finally relented and actually looked forward to this high-style living for a bit.

Caitlin was waiting at the condo when Mickey arrived with Maysah Siddra and the Orion admin. She was amazed to see all three chattering animatedly. The doctor looked happy to be free of the constraints of her former Afghanistan society. She was relaxed and peered around with curiosity and wonder. The unit was spacious and looked out over Lake Union. As she walked over to the dramatic floor-to-ceiling picture window in the living room, a De Havilland DHC-3 Otter floatplane glided down onto the choppy lake waters. Maysah was delighted and exclaimed at being able to witness the landing right there in her own living room.

Mickey was relieved and happy this “project” appeared to have been a good decision. The four went to dinner at the rotating restaurant atop the Space Needle, which was only two miles down the road. The doctor was overwhelmed at the warm reception she had received so far. Her new temporary, but maybe long-term, residence, was more than she ever expected. She beamed all the way through dinner as the others pointed out various sights five hundred feet below and off in the distance. The views of Mount Rainier and the Cascade and Olympic ranges were just enough like home to be of great comfort. She knew she had found her new home and would be happy here.

In the morning, the young Afghan doctor was anxious to get started on her new life. She asked to see Paul Fields, so she could personally thank him for all he had done. Caitlin had planned a quiet day to help Maysah acclimate to the city and maybe have a few English lessons. She was fine with the request and worked out the timing with Mickey. He met the two at the Orion building housing the Executive Offices and escorted them to Paul Fields’ private reception area. As they looked out the five-story building on the southeast end of Lake Union, Maysah realized she could see this very building from her living room on the west end of the lake.

Fields came out and greeted them. After handshakes and hugs, he ushered them into his private conference room. He asked Mickey to join them. Dr. Siddra was awed at the magnificence of the huge conference room. There were twenty-four plush leather ergonomic chairs around the table. The little group huddled around one end. There was an elevated podium at one end, along with several big screens around the room and a kitchenette off to the side. Even Caitlin was a little more than impressed and intimidated at the high-tech nature of the meeting room. As she looked around, she suspected there was every type of electronic monitoring device that money could buy for this special room. She hoped they weren’t bothering the busy CEO too much. With a company like this, and after what he had been through, she supposed he was frantically trying to catch up and yet get his life back to normal as quickly as possible.