Free Novel Read

The Devil's Due (The Blackwell Files Book 5) Page 11


  CHAPTER 34

  The clang of the cell door jarred Mastana awake. She rubbed a hand across bleary eyes, then opened them to the perpetual twilight of her cell.

  Between the anxiety attendant with her captivity and the discomfort of the rough stone floor, getting a restful sleep had proved to be impossible. Instead, she alternated between bouts of restless slumber and groggy consciousness.

  She looked to see who had opened the door.

  “Hello, young one,” said Divband.

  “Hello, my Lord,” she replied, opting for the title she judged least likely to provoke anger. She prayed he would not send for the guards to take her down the hall. For some reason, she feared that outcome most of all.

  Divband produced a menacing smile. “Indeed you are correct. I am master of this place…and you.”

  He approached Mastana. Grabbing her chin with his hand, he turned her from side to side as if inspecting livestock.

  “Good,” he muttered, nodding.

  “You are pleased, my Lord?”

  “Yes, so far. You have not…been with a man, have you?”

  “No.” Mastana dared not lie about a fact so easy to confirm.

  “Good. You are flawless in body and spirit. Perfect for the upcoming ceremony.”

  An alarm sounded in Mastana’s mind. Was this ceremony the same one to which the other prisoner had been led? The prisoner who had not returned? Had Mastana passed a test that marked her for an ominous fate?

  “My Lord, I do not want to upset you, but I think I should tell you about an…imperfection.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Four years ago, I was in a marketplace in Kabul when Al-Qaeda exploded a bomb. I was injured—badly. I still bear many scars on my left side. I am afraid I may not possess the perfection you seek.”

  “You lie.”

  “I would never lie to you, especially about something so easily verified. Would you like me to show you the scars?” She moved a hand to her shirt but awaited his command before proceeding. The scars had healed over time and were now quite minor, but at least she had something to show if necessary.

  “Yes…wait, no. I can see you are telling the truth.” Divband scowled at the revelation and mumbled to himself.

  Mastana read conflicted emotions on the man’s countenance. Had she bought herself more time or condemned herself?

  “But your face is untouched?” asked Divband.

  “That is correct, my Lord.”

  “I think that will be sufficient. My followers will not know about the imperfections.”

  Mastana bowed her head.

  Muttering again, Divband exited the room and slammed the door shut.

  “Lock this!” he commanded a guard.

  Mastana listened to the receding footsteps. She still could not decide if revealing the presence of her scars had helped her odds of survival. Perhaps she had made things worse. All her instincts, though, told her that letting events play out by themselves would lead to disaster. Better to die fighting for her life than passively await her fate.

  CHAPTER 35

  “Okay,” said Alton, addressing the group gathered around Kamaal’s table. “Let’s divide into two teams, one for each target house. Alpha Team will cover the house with the hammock out front. Bravo Team will cover the house with the junker in the driveway. In case someone outside either house starts talking, we’ll need to have at least one Pashto speaker on each team to translate. Fahima, why don’t you and David form Alpha Team? Hanif and Kamaal, you can form Bravo Team. I’ll go to Alpha and Mallory can go to Bravo.”

  Fahima glanced at Mallory’s worried expression. “Alton, I think Mallory would like to be on the same team as you.”

  “But then we’d have an unequal number—”

  “Is okay,” interjected Hanif. “We will all be near each other, right?”

  “That’s true,” replied Alton. “In that case, Mallory and I will both be on Alpha Team. I’d prefer that, to be honest.

  “Let’s talk about our tactical objective. Our primary goal tonight is identifying Dani’s house. Once we’ve done that, we’ll scout the layout of the yard and house, if we have an opportunity. We’ll want to collect that information and take at least a little time to plan next steps before we try a raid on the house. We’ll only have one chance to use the element of surprise, and if we blow it, they could kill Mastana before we reach her—if she’s actually in the house. Are we all cool with that approach?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good. Does everyone remember the side street we saw yesterday, the one west of the T-intersection?”

  Again, everyone nodded.

  “Let’s park both cars behind the old warehouse on the corner of that street. The warehouse is only fifty yards or so from the hammock house but will still fully conceal the cars.

  “After we park, we’ll advance on foot to our scouting locations—teams of two, five minutes apart. There’s hardly any traffic where we’ll be parking, so we shouldn’t be observed. Alpha team will set up a recon position in the empty lot on the other side of the T-intersection, just across the street from the hammock house. Bravo team will set up in the alley across the street from the junker house.

  “We should try to blend a little more than we do now. Kamaal, do you have any clothing we could borrow? It might help make us look a little less conspicuous.”

  “Yes. I have a couple of jackets. I hope they are big enough. I don’t have anything for the ladies to wear, though.”

  “I saw a burka and sweater in Mastana’s duffle bag,” said Mallory. “Fahima and I can use those.”

  “Good,” said Alton. “It’s not going to win us covert ops team of the year, but it’s better than nothing.

  “Now for equipment. Everyone take earphones, mikes, and binoculars. There’s no telling how late we’ll be there, so let’s also take the night-vision goggles.”

  “We should bring weapons, too,” said David. “I know we’re trying to stay under the radar, but there’s still a chance we’ll engage with Al-Qaeda while we’re there.”

  “Good point,” said Alton. “The SIG Sauers have suppressors. Let’s bring those.”

  “We should also bring the A-fours, just in case all hell breaks loose,” said Mallory.

  “Also a good point,” said Alton. “Let’s bring both. We’ll need to leave the A-fours in the car, though. We can’t exactly walk down the street carrying assault rifles. We’ll bring the SIG Sauers with us. Hanif, why don’t you take a Sauer for Bravo Team, and I’ll take another for Alpha Team?”

  “Yes, I will take one.”

  Alton rubbed his chin. “Since there’s six of us, we’ll need to take two cars. Hanif and Kamaal, are you all good for driving?”

  They replied in the affirmative.

  “All right, let’s gather the equipment and roll in five.”

  Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the agreed-upon side street, half a block away from their stakeout locations. Alton called the other car. “We’re going stealthy as of now. Turn off your cell phones and turn on your mikes and headsets. Everyone test your mike to make sure the others can hear you.”

  After everyone had completed the equipment check, Hanif called Alton. “Kamaal and I will go first.”

  “Okay. Two more will deploy in five minutes. David and Fahima, why don’t you all go next? That way, we’ll get our Pashto speaker in place right away.”

  “Okay,” said Fahima, whose face was crossed with worry. Alton couldn’t blame her. While this mission was about reconnaissance, not combat, it still carried some risk. Her background was less suited for this type of mission than that of the others, all former soldiers or law enforcement.

  “You’ll be fine,” said Alton. “You have David with you. If you encounter Al-Qaeda members, he can always incapacitate them with one of his jokes.”

  “Nice,” said David with a roll of his eyes. “Are you ready, Rose of Kabul?”

  Fahima giggled. “Yes.”
/>
  Within fifteen minutes, all six of the team members had deployed to their designated spots. Alton and the rest of Alpha team crouched behind a thick clump of dying blackberry bushes. Peering through the thistles, they had a nice line of sight to the hammock house yet remained well-concealed. Alton had to look for a minute before he spotted Hanif and Kamaal ensconced behind a pile of garbage in the alley, keeping a close eye on the junker house.

  Both teams had maintained a vigilant but uneventful watch for nearly an hour when a Mazda Demio pulled up to the curb in front of Alpha Team’s hammock house.

  “Heads up,” murmured Alton into his sub-vocalization mike.

  Exiting the car was a man wearing a white turban and traditional khet partug clothing, a knee-length linen shirt combined with loose-fitting, pleated pants. The man looked to be about the right age to be Mastana’s uncle.

  Alton raised a pair of binoculars to his face, but the man circled around the car, turning his back to Alpha Team.

  “C’mon,” whispered Alton. “Turn around.”

  The man turned back to open the door to the car’s back seat.

  “Damn. I think that’s him, guys!” said Alton. He brought up Dani’s photo on his cell phone. “Affirmative. The photo is a match.”

  As Alton spoke, Dani bent down into the back seat and began pulling out an object. Fahima gasped as the item came into view.

  Dani lugged a rolled-up blanket with a person inside, someone of a small stature. The blanket had been swathed with silver duct tape, trapping the unlucky person inside. Dani attempted to throw the blanket over his shoulder but was confounded by the prisoner’s constant struggling.

  “Al, that could be her—Mastana!” hissed David. “Let’s go get her.”

  Alton hesitated. “What if we’ve been spotted? Al-Qaeda could be trying to lure us into the open. It seems too lucky that we’d stumble across Mastana the first hour we’re here.”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it. Let’s assume we haven’t been spotted. What if there’s more of Dani’s Al-Qaeda buddies in there? Let’s stop him before he goes inside. At least out here we have him outnumbered. We can’t let this chance slip us by. There’s no telling who or what we’ll encounter if we let him escape into the house.”

  Dani finally hoisted his load onto his shoulder and turned towards the house, staggering a bit under the weight.

  Alton activated his mike. “Hanif and Kamaal, come quick. Dani is here. He’s carrying a prisoner, and we’re moving in!”

  CHAPTER 36

  “Let’s move!” said Alton. “Fahima, you stay here. Mallory and David, advance toward Dani. I’ll cover.” Alton withdrew the SIG Sauer from his waistband.

  Dry weeds covering the ground in the lot betrayed their movement.

  Dani spun. His eyes grew wide as he saw Mallory and David running towards him. He scurried back to his car and threw his prisoner into the backseat. Withdrawing a pistol from his jacket’s pocket, he crouched behind the car and lined up a shot in Mallory’s direction.

  Alton could see Dani through the windows of the car, but he couldn’t risk shooting through them. The shot might ricochet and hit Mastana instead. Rather than take that chance, Alton shot the engine compartment.

  Dani jumped in surprise as the bullet impacted the Mazda with a resounding thud. He peered over the car, trying to figure out from where the shot had originated.

  At the sound of the Alton’s shot, Mallory peeled off to the left to take cover behind a telephone pole, while David threw himself behind a parked car.

  Alton took another shot at Dani’s head but missed, instead burying the slug in the wooden frame of the house behind Dani. Crouching down, the terrorist swiveled and stared at the impact spot.

  Alton fired again. Another miss, but a least he was rattling the man. Maybe Dani would run off and leave Mastana behind.

  Dani spun back in Mallory’s direction and fired. He turned towards David and fired again. Luckily, both shots missed, but the terrorist used the opportunity to enter his car through the passenger door. He crawled to the driver’s side and roared the engine to life. Alton lined up his pistol in the direction of the rear tire, but the car lurched forward just as he squeezed off the shot, causing the round to bounce harmlessly off the road.

  Dani squealed the tires on his Mazda as he careened down the street. He spun the car around the T-intersection and revved the engine as he accelerated along the straightaway.

  Hanif and Kamaal arrived just in time to hear Alton yell, “Back to the cars!”

  They bolted for their vehicles. Alton’s limp caused him to fall behind, so he shouted, “Hanif, pick me up when you head back over here.”

  “I will,” replied Hanif in full sprint.

  The others disappeared, turning into the warehouse parking lot where they had parked their cars. Moments later, Kamaal—traveling solo—roared past in his Corolla, giving chase to the underpowered Mazda.

  Alton halted at the side of the road, gasping for breath as his heartbeat pounded out a steady rhythm in his damaged leg. Seconds later, Hanif pulled alongside. Alton jumped into the car, which never came to a complete stop. “Go! Don’t lose him!”

  The old Merc C200 powered up, shrinking the distance to Dani’s car. The sidewalk soon became a blur. For the first time, Alton felt grateful for the Afghani police’s indifference toward civilian crimes. If potential kidnappings didn’t capture their attention, what were the odds they would care about a few speeding cars?

  Dani made a series of turns in an unsuccessful attempt to shake his pursuers.

  “He’s only turning to the right,” said Fahima. “If he keeps doing that, we can turn onto one of these alleys and come out in front of him.”

  “Good thinking, Babe,” said David.

  Dani turned a corner, and the Merc squealed as it followed him around the hard turn. Hanif punched through the gears, reaching top speed in seconds.

  “Kamaal, can you hear me?” Alton asked into his microphone.

  “Yes, there’s some static, but I hear you.”

  “Okay. Stay on Dani. We’re going to turn onto another street to try to get ahead of him.”

  “I will try.” The interpreter sounded nervous. Alton was impressed with the man’s resolve. Kamaal wasn’t letting fear get in the way of pursuing the terrorist.

  As they sped down the thoroughfare, Fahima eyed the side streets. “There! Turn onto that one!”

  Hanif jammed on the brakes, releasing them just as he skidded around the corner. He punched the Mercedes into low gear and accelerated out of the curve.

  Fahima chattered to Hanif in Pashto and pointed. Hanif stopped the car next to a brick building, leaving only its hood visible to the four-lane road’s crossing traffic.

  “This will be a good ambush point,” said Hanif.

  Alton snatched his cell phone from his pocket, praying Kamaal had likewise activated his. He hit the speed-dial number and silently rejoiced when the interpreter answered his phone. “Kamaal, we’re concealed behind a building. Do you see a shop with a picture of a bed frame on it?”

  “No, I don’t see—wait, yes, I see it. Dani is almost there.”

  “Back off. We’re right behind that building, and we’re going to ram him.”

  “But what if you hurt Mastana?” asked Fahima.

  “It’s a risk we have to take. What will happen to her if we don’t stop Dani?”

  Nobody spoke.

  Alton peered down the street. “Here he comes. Ready? Gun it!”

  Revving the motor, Hanif shot into the road but still nearly missed the speeding Mazda. He caught the rear bumper just enough to send the terrorist’s car into a 360-degree skid before it smashed into a streetlight in the yard-wide median.

  Wisps of steam began to rise from underneath the Mazda’s hood. Hanif pulled his car up to the wreck. All its occupants piled out and raced for the Mazda.

  Dani moaned as blood dripped from a gash in his forehead.

  “Leave him,” said Alt
on. “Let’s free Mastana and get out of here before his Al-Qaeda cronies show up.”

  The rescuers pulled the prisoner, still tightly wrapped in a blanket, from the car and carried the bundle to the curb, out of the way of Kabul’s rather psychotic traffic.

  Kamaal’s car pulled up beside them while eager hands ripped away the packing tape that had secured the prisoner in a woven jail. Alton tore away the last piece of tape and unwrapped the blanket as fast as he could, nearly sending the occupant into a spin.

  Alton removed the last fold of blanket, and the group fell into silence. Inside was a teenage girl—terrified, bewildered, shocked…but not Mastana.

  “Damn!” said Alton. “Let’s go back to Dani! He may be keeping Mastana somewhere else.”

  They raced back to the steaming car.

  Alton turned to Kamaal. “Ask him where Mastana is.”

  As the interpreter spoke, Alton withdrew the SIG Sauer from his waistband and jammed the silencer into Dani’s stomach. The terrorist’s eyes grew wide, and he produced a rapid-fire reply.

  “He says he doesn’t know where that little…well, he called her some bad names,” said Kamaal. “He says he asked the students and teachers at her school in case she told someone there, but nobody knows where she is.”

  “Who’s the girl in his car just now?”

  After another exchange with Dani, Kamaal summarized the answer. “He says the girl is the daughter of a friend. He says the girl’s father was angry with her for misbehaving and had banished her to another house for a few days. He didn’t tell me, but I think his friend is Al-Qaeda. If so, then maybe they were going to use this girl to attack Camp Eggers.”

  “Makes sense, now that Mastana’s gone,” said Alton. “And that would confirm Dani’s contention that he doesn’t know where Mastana is. Otherwise, he’d still use her. He’d have no need for the new girl.”

  “I think you are right,” said Hanif. “We should take this new girl with us. She’s not safe here.”