A Bloody Storm: A Derrick Storm Short (7 page)

“How far to the border crossing?” Storm asked.

“Only three miles,” she replied. “We don’t have to climb to the top of these mountains. There is a pass that cuts through them, but it will take us at least two hours to reach because of the terrain. It’s important for everyone to watch their footing.”

Storm asked: “How long until we get to Jizzakh?”

“We’ll be there by nightfall.”

“That’ll give them plenty of time to interrogate your girlfriend,” Casper said, taunting him. “Maybe they’ll give her a pretty little scar on her face, too—after they’ve passed her around like a bicycle.”

“You talk too much,” Dilya said. “Save your breath for climbing the mountain.”

“Are there border guards?” Oscar asked.

“Only occasional patrols. There are so many miles of border in these mountains that it would be impossible to watch every pass.”

Dilya led. Oscar immediately began following her, but both Casper and Storm hesitated.

“After you, sweetheart,” Casper sneered.

Storm shook his head, indicating no. He did not want Casper behind him, and Casper knew it. He chuckled and fell in behind Oscar, leaving the rear to Storm.

There was no formal trail and the incline soon grew steep, but not so much that they needed to be roped together. The tops of the mountains were covered with deep snow, which they avoided where possible. About a half hour into their trek, they came to a mound of loose rocks that they needed to climb. It required them to use their hands to help pull them forward as they scaled a series of jagged rocks on all fours. Dilya scrambled up the surface with ease, but Oscar lost his footing and a half dozen fist-sized rocks broke loose and shot down the incline behind him, nearly hitting Casper and Storm.

“Sorry,” he called to them.

Casper cursed, and Storm immediately regretted his decision to be at the bottom of their line. He knew what was about to happen, and a moment later, he found himself dodging another rock that came bouncing down toward his face. It was followed by another, larger stone that barely missed him.

“Oops,” Casper said. “My bad.”

When they reached the top of the loose rocks, they began walking on a goat path that soon led them to a cut between the mountains. The air was thin, and all of them were struggling to catch their breath. Dilya suddenly raised her hand and they stopped. She dropped to her knees.
The rest did, too. About three hundred yards ahead of them were two men in Uzbekistan border patrol uniforms. Both carried automatic weapons. They were smoking cigarettes and talking.

Casper duckwalked to where Dilya was hiding.

“Give me the M-24,” he said, referring to the American military-issue sniper rifle that she was carrying. “I’ll kill them.”

“There are two of them,” she said.

“Yeah, so? I’ll drop the second before he figures out what happened to his buddy.”

“No,” she said firmly. “You could miss. One might escape. We will wait.”

“I never miss,” Casper said. “And they could be here for hours.”

“And for what reason?” she replied. “This is a routine stop for them. This path is well known. We will wait.”

Casper let out a sigh in disgust and moved back nearer Storm. He sat, leaned his back against a rock, and closed his eyes, but he couldn’t help but taunt Storm. “Tick, tick, tick,” he whispered. “Every minute we’re stuck here is another minute for them to play with your lady friend. Maybe they’ll just pull off a fingernail, or maybe they’ll take a complete finger or even her hand. How do you like the nickname ‘Stumpy’?”

Storm moved up to where Dilya was watching the guards through field glasses, which she immediately handed to him.

“Every moment we’re stuck here counts,” Storm reminded her.

“These two men are part of a twelve-man squad. They ride in a truck to known crossing areas and then fan out searching for drug runners and other illegal aliens. If Casper shoots them, their companions will know. We cannot save your friend if we are discovered.”

Through the field glasses, Storm saw one of the guards flick a spent cigarette. The guard then turned, and the two of them began walking away from the pass.

“We’ll wait fifteen minutes for them to rejoin their comrades and leave. Then we will cross into Uzbekistan. I only hope that the guards did not discover our new vehicle hidden on the other side of the border. It is a long walk down the mountain to the nearest town.”

Storm thought about Showers. Alone, being interrogated in Jizzakh. He was not a deeply religious man, but he said a silent prayer that there would be a car waiting and that Showers would still be alive when they reached her.

Minutes later, the unlikely foursome walked gingerly through the pass and started down a narrow footpath. Coming down the mountain proved more taxing than climbing it. Gravity tugged at them, pulling them close to the path’s edge, trying to make them hurry their footing and break into what surely would be a fatal run.

They watched for the border guards but didn’t see them.

After about an hour, Dilya said, “There!” She pointed to a clump of trees. Storm caught the reflection of the sun off the windshield of a four-wheel drive Chevy. When they reached it, they shed their gear and paused to catch their breath.

Oscar disappeared into the trees to pee. Casper inspected a diagram that had been left inside the SUV along with a handheld satellite GPS. This left Storm and Dilya together. They walked to a large rock jutting from the terrain, and Dilya took a drink of water then handed her canteen to Storm.

“It’s beautiful,” Dilya said, scanning the picturesque plains that spread for miles before them from their mountain perch.

He knew better than to ask, but couldn’t help himself. “Why did you get involved with Jones?”

“When the Soviet Union collapsed, more than two million Russians ran back to Russia because they knew what would happen if they stayed here. But we had grown dependent on their handouts and there was chaos. People were starving. My country is mostly Sunni Muslim, and the Jihad Group, which is linked to Al Qaeda, soon began launching terrorist attacks because our government became friendly with Americans. My parents, husband, and daughter were murdered in a bomb blast in a café. I wanted to die, but first I wanted to kill as many terrorists as possible. Jones’ people found me. They helped me infiltrate the Jihad Group.”

She made it sound simple—like signing up for Terrorism 101. But Storm knew better. He was familiar with the Jihad Group, and it was one of the most secretive and deadly of all the extremists. One of the group’s top commanders, a radical known simply as the Viper, was why Storm had been sent to Tangiers. Jones had needed Storm to help track down the Viper, and the CIA had learned that the terrorist was meeting in Tangiers with another Al Qaeda operative. For years, the northern Morocco city had been known as a safe haven for spies and terrorists. Jones told Storm that as soon as he was able to identify where the Viper was hiding, an agency team would be sent to capture or kill him. Casper had been part of that “kill team.” It had been housed separately from Storm’s group in Tangiers, waiting for a greenlight. But a day after Storm landed in Morocco, he and the others with him had been ambushed. Everyone but him was killed. It had been a trap and the Viper escaped.

“Do you know the Jihad Group?” she asked him.

“Yes, the Viper is a truly evil man.”

“They all are.”

Oscar emerged from the bushes and Casper finished with his map. “You girls going to chat all afternoon or are we ready to go kill someone?” Casper asked.

Dilya said, “Why must you be so unpleasant?”

“Actually, Scarface, I’ve been on my best behavior just to impress you.” Looking directly at Storm, he added, “Tick, tick, tick.”

“Let’s begin with the most obvious question: Where is the gold?” Hasan asked Showers.

“What gold?” she replied.

Hasan chuckled. “So this is how we will play our little game.” He scanned the various torture devices that he’d carefully placed in front of him and then yelled something in Uzbek. Two men hurried into the room. One carried a metal folding chair, which he set up directly across from Hasan. He hoisted Showers from the mat and forced her into the chair. The guard jerked her injured right arm behind her, sending a jarring pain up her shoulder, but she refused to scream. He handcuffed her wrists in back of the chair.

The other guard brought a large truck battery with jumper cables into the room and dropped it near her feet.

“Didn’t you say shocking people was mundane?” she chided.

“Consider this foreplay,” Hasan hissed. “I will get more creative as our evening together progresses.”

At least now she knew it was nightfall. Hasan rose from his seat, walked behind her, reached down, and suddenly grabbed her right shoulder, digging his thumb into her wound.

Showers screamed. He pressed again, clearly trying to separate the collarbone that the hospital surgeons had labored to repair. The pain was so intense, and she was so exhausted that Showers mercifully blacked out.

“Langley has a bird’s-eye view of the dump where they are entertaining the FBI broad,” Casper announced as Dilya drove the SUV toward Jizzakh. “Intel says there are currently only four men inside the building.”

“Four?” Oscar replied.

“What sort of building is it?” Dilya asked.

“A slaughterhouse,” Casper said, chuckling. “I didn’t think Muslims ate meat.”

“Muslims practice
Halal
,” Dilya said. “We don’t eat pork or any meat that has blood in it. Nor do we drink alcohol.”

“Pity for you, Scarface. No booze to help you sleep during those lonely nights,” Casper said. “Maybe we can get together after this little escapade and I can introduce you to a friend of mine named Jack Daniel’s”

“Does this mean women only find you attractive when they are drunk?” she asked.

“What’s your rescue plan?” Storm said.

“KISS,” Casper replied, smacking his lips at Dilya. “It stands for Keep It Simple Stupid. When we get there, our little scientist friend here will stay outside and shoot anyone who tries to come in to help the other tangos.”

He grabbed the barrel of his shotgun and said, “I’m going to take my little friend here and blow open the door.”

“You don’t have C-3?” Dilya asked, referring to plastic explosives.

“Don’t need it,” he replied. “A few rounds of double-aught buckshot fired into the hinges and my boot heel will do the trick. And I’ll still have a few left over for the tango inside.”

“That’s your plan?” Dilya said. “Shoot the door and then run inside?”

“Well, it’s a bit more sophisticated than that. I’m also going to have lover boy here toss in some flash bangs.” He was referring to Storm. “When those bangs explode, there will be a very, very loud noise, a blinding flash, and a shock wave that will knock whoever’s inside on their asses like they were standing next to a giant speaker at a heavy metal concert.”

Casper paused. He liked being the center of attention and being in charge. “Now,” he said, “I figure Scarface here has more time firing an AK-47 than our lover boy. As soon as I blast that door, and while the flash bangs are turning everyone into blind mutes, she fires off a series of bursts that will serve as ground fire, killing anything in our way. Amid this confusion and chaos, yours truly will charge through with my reloaded shotgun, followed by her and the AK-47 and lover boy here bringing up the rear with his Glock. Obviously, lover boy here will need to use his little popgun because the only other rifle we’ve got is the M-24, and that isn’t going to be worth a damn in close-range fighting. I’ll assume you can fire a handgun, right?”

Casper glanced at Storm with disdain and didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, Casper said, “Not that it matters, because Dilya and me should be able to take down all four of the tangos with you and Oscar just tagging along for the ride. We’ll rescue the FBI princess and then go get the gold. KISS.”

Storm asked, “What’s to keep them from killing Agent Showers the moment you blow open their front door?”

“Absolutely nothing,” said Casper. “But there’s no way we can sneak into that building undetected.”

“He’s right,” said Dilya. “Our best hope is that—during all of the confusion—they will either ignore her or attempt to use her as a hostage. We should have the element of surprise.”

“Unless,” said Casper, “we’ve got another Tangiers situation here. Isn’t that right, lover boy?”

Dilya said, “It’s a good plan.”

“I wasn’t asking for a critique, Scarface.”

Showers gagged for breath and opened her eyes just in time to see one of the two guards in the torture chamber lowering the metal pail that she’d been offered earlier to pee in. He’d splashed water onto her face, waking her and also creating a better conduit for electricity, since her feet were now in water. They’d removed her shoes and socks. The pain in her shoulder was excoriating. She felt certain that Hasan had rebroken her collarbone.

Hasan was fiddling with the large truck battery that was next to her. Reaching over, he connected one of the wires from the battery terminal to the metal chair that she was sitting in. He held the other in his hand. Now that she was awake, he was ready to begin. He held the clasp in front of her face. “Where is your smart tongue now? Do you wish to stick it out at me?”