Black Smoke (15 page)

Only when his father passed out did the young Mark relax enough to let the help come through. The soft touch to his face by a hand that wasn’t there, or the warmth that seemed to surround him like a heavy blanket had been wrapped gently over his shoulders. He remembered the smell of roses, often late at night when he was wishing he’d never been born.

Then there was the time when he’d turned fourteen. He’d been in his eighth foster home. The people were nice enough, but they had two other foster children living with them as well. One a girl, the other a boy two years older then him. The girl was small and shy, never speaking unless spoken to and quick to make herself useful. The boy on the other hand was always trying to stir up trouble. Blaming Mark for stealing money he’d taken, or making it look like Mark was responsible for broken furniture, or windows.

On one particularly bad day, Mark came home from school to find a police car sitting in front of the house, along with an ambulance. Mark walked by the officers unnoticed and made his way inside. He found his foster mother sitting on the couch covered in bruises. Blood was running from her nose, her clothes had been torn. Fear made the young Mark begin to shake as he watched the paramedics administer first aid.

“He’s sixteen Mr. Hester. He’ll probably do adult time,” one of the officers told his foster father. “We’ll need you to come down to the station and give us a complete statement.”

Mark knew who they were speaking of. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out. His foster brother was a time bomb waiting to go off. And from the looks of it, today was the day.

“We need to call social services. They’ll have to come and pick up the other two children. I don’t think my wife will be able to take care of them any longer,” Mr. Hester told the officer.

It wasn’t long until the familiar face of Ms. Kennedy, the woman in charge of his case, made her appearance. She ushered him and the girl into the back of her car and started down the road.

Mark sat quietly in the back, watching as the trees and houses went by, wondering if he’d ever find someone to love him. That’s when he heard it. The voice so clear and calming inside his head.

You will find your place one day. And someone to love you. Be patient Mark. Your time will come.

The voice was soothing and full of hope. He’d held onto those words until he turned eighteen. The day he enlisted he swore he would take care of himself from now on and to hell with anyone coming along to love him.

Now here he was, in the middle of the desert, in a hostile country, working with a woman who claimed she heard these voices all the time. Not only heard them, but was guided by them. And not just any woman. A woman who made him think of things he swore he could live without. Things like tenderness, companionship and the need to have someone by your side all the time.

“Kong.”

The single word brought him from his thoughts. How long had be been walking blindly behind her, not paying attention to what was happening?

“Kong, you still with me?” she asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?” he responded.

“We’re almost there. You want to radio Ricochet and find out where to meet them?”

Kong switched his radio channel to Boomer and Ricochet’s frequency. “Ricochet, give us your location.”

Sam waited and watched with an eagle eye as Kong received the coordinates. She was feeling jumpy, uneasy. She never felt like this during a mission and that made her all the more uneasy.

Something bad was going to happen, she could feel it all the way to her core.

Tell me this will all work out
, she said silently in her head.
Tell me we will all go home alive.

No answer came, just silence. Sam knew when she didn’t receive an answer it was because she wasn’t supposed to. Things would work out the way they were meant to and she’d have to live with it.

She didn’t hear or even sense Kong as he came up next to her. The start he gave her was clear on her face. God, she had to get it together. She needed to make sure these people all made it home alive.

“Everything okay?” Kong could see her eyes and they were unsure.

“Yeah, fine. How far away are they?”

Kong didn’t answer right away, he didn’t like the look in her eyes. Something wasn’t right.

“They’re holed up in an abandoned building behind the target. You know, the one you picked out? Still no sign of movement.”

Sam nodded her head. “Okay, let’s go.”

Kong followed her closely. It only took fifteen minutes to reach the building where Ricochet and Boomer were hiding. They had only encountered one person on the street, an elderly woman almost running down the sandy street. Her whole body was covered in the traditional Burka. Kong doubted she’d be able to see them in the dark. The heavy material surrounded her face acted like a shield. When the woman scurried inside one of the dilapidated dwellings the two continued on. The silence on the street was almost deafening. Kong preferred activity over silence. With activity around, every sound you made didn’t seem like it was going over an intercom system. Nonetheless, no one seemed to be around to hear them tonight.

When they met up with the other two, Sam felt a great sense of relief. Even though she knew they were all right, it was still good to see them. Why she felt so connected to these three men confused her. She’d never felt so responsible for other people she’d worked with. This was something she’d have to put aside for now and study later. That list was growing by leaps and bounds.

“What’s up?” Kong asked the two men.

“Ya know, that’s the weird part. Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” Ricochet said in his high-pitched street voice. “I don’t like this Kong. I don’t like it one bit.”

“How about you Boomer? What’s your take on the situation?”

“Well,” Boomer’s lazy style of talking made Sam smile. “I agree with Ricochet. Usually we see some kind of activity, no matter what the situation. But I haven’t seen one ounce of movement.”

Kong sat and watched the building himself for a few moments. This was strange. Surely they wouldn’t walk away with a hostage inside the building? Or would they? He needed to see what was going on inside.

“Smoke, what can you tell me?” he asked without taking his eyes off the dwelling.

“Only that it’s the right building and that he’s in there,” she replied.

Ricochet and Boomer looked at each other, then at Kong. When they left the campsite, the two were at each other’s throat. Now he was asking her for an opinion.

“I need to see inside the building, see what the layout is like.” Kong said to all three.

“Let me do it.” Sam was sure she’d meet some resistance, but she needed to do it herself. Kong looked over at her in the darkness. The worry was still thick in her eyes, but her face showed determination. “Okay. Don’t take long.”

The three men watched as she seemed to disappear into the darkness. When she was out of sight, Ricochet leaned back against a large rock that had once been used as part of the dwelling’s wall. Running his hand over his bald head a few times, he studied his friend.

“Ya wanna tell us what’s going on?” he asked in a tired voice.

“Hunh?”

“When we left, we were sure only one of ya was gonna make it outta camp alive. Now, ya treatin’ her like she’s one a us. What gives?”

“Nothing gives Ric. I just understand her a little better, that’s all.”

“You want to fill us in?” Boomer asked patiently.

Kong turned then and looked at them. He’d never held anything back from them before in his association with them, but this wasn’t his story to tell. “Look, I misread her, that’s all. We talked a while and I see where she’s coming from, that’s all.”

“You sure?” The questioning look in Boomer’s eyes made Kong feel a bit guilty, but it couldn’t be helped. Like he said, it wasn’t his story to tell.

“I’m sure.”

Chapter Twelve

Sam stepped with sure, quiet feet toward the building. The closer she got, the more uneasy she began to feel. Her eyes darted from side to side as she neared the building, watching and waiting for anything to spring from the shadows. The debris that lay around her was a sign that this village had seen fighting. Whether it came from American bombs or tribal wars she didn’t know.

It saddened her to think of the people that must have died. Surely with this much destruction lives had been lost. Then the sight of the towers falling in New York flashed through her mind, along with the Pentagon scene and the hole in the ground in Pennsylvania where the last plane went down. Her heart swelled with pride as she thought of all those people on that plane, doing what was necessary to stop more innocent lives from being taken.

It wasn’t her job to be a judge in this situation. Her job at the moment was to get the hostage out safely and back home where he belonged. A job that was supposed to be routine, but was quickly becoming anything but.

Sam spotted a dim light seeping through a crack in the wall off to her left. She crossed over to the crack and pressed her eye up to it. There was just enough light for her to see two people lying on the dirt floor, bound and gagged. Both men were covered in filth, but Sam could see red hair beneath it on one of them. The other man was older, frailer looking. He’d either been held longer, or his age had not allowed him to hold up under the duress he’d been forced to endure.

There is one more Samantha in a back room.

Sam continued around the outside of the dwelling, her feeling of unease growing by the second. As she neared the center of the wall, she felt a strong force stop her. Sam was used to these things happening to her, so she stopped. Listening with her ear to the wall, she could hear sobbing. Female sobbing. The hair on her arms stood straight up. They had themselves a woman. Sam’s stomach rolled. She knew what these men did to women. Fury replaced the sick feeling in her stomach.

Looking up, she saw a small window just a foot over her head. Sam found a piece of rubble to stand on, then pulled herself up to the window. The burning, tearing feeling she felt in her arm was ignored. She had to see what was behind this wall.

The sight sickened her, then pure anger washed over her. The woman was shackled to a cot, her naked body covered with cuts made by a knife. Even in the dim light of the moon she could see the bruises that covered her body. It was hard to tell if she was American or Afghan. To Sam it didn’t matter. A brutalized woman was a brutalized woman.

Sam vowed that she would remove this woman from her torture chamber, but she would have to wait. Leaving her made Sam angry all over again. Anger was what was going to fuel her to complete this mission. Sure now that there had to be Taliban men in the building, she jumped down from the window, then continued her search. Sure enough, two men were seated outside the door of the woman’s chamber. They were laughing and eating.

What are they saying?
Sam asked her guide.

Is this necessary to complete your mission?

No games, no riddles. I need to know what they’re saying. Please.

They are talking of how they will end her life tomorrow.

Over my dead body,
Sam told her guide.

If you allow emotion to rule you now, in this moment that is a possibility.

Sam froze for a brief moment. She’d never been warned of letting her emotions rule her before. Then again, she knew this mission was different.

Are there any more men inside the building?
she asked patiently.

No. More will come within the hour. This is not where death will occur. They will transport the hostages to another building out in the desert.

Sam’s brow furrowed. So they moved them to do the killing. But why? She needed to fill the others in on the situation.

When Sam returned to the others they could see the raw fury in her eyes. Kong was sure he saw actual fire burning in her retina.

“What is it?” Kong asked calmly.

“Three hostages. Two are being held in a room in the center of the building. It can be accessed from the outside, if we’re careful.” Sam paused and gathered her composure before she continued. “They have a woman in a back room. No easy access, except from the inside of the building.”

When the word “woman” left her lips, she watched their faces. All three of them gave a different expression, but all were expressions of anger. Anger for what they knew had been done to her.

“She’s shackled to a cot, naked and hurt badly. I don’t know if she’s American or not. Two men inside. Tomorrow is D-day,” she explained.

“Hell,” Kong said, then rubbed his chin. “We can take the two men and move them out without any problem. Once we deal with the two Taliban warriors we can remove the woman.”

“Kong, this isn’t where they do the killing. More Taliban will arrive within the hour to move them.” Sam relayed the information slowly hoping he would understand where she got it.

He did, then looked to the other two. “What do ya think? Do we do the rescue now and risk getting company in the middle of it, or wait and follow them? Take them all out at once?”