The Eye of Shiva (18 page)

"Sure. Now that I've broken the encryption
, his phone is mine. Anything he says can be understood."

"Good.
Set it up."

Nick looked
uncomfortable. "I didn't think of that. I should have."

"You're letting your feelings get the best of you," Elizabeth said. "You're upset about Ronnie and you want to strike back. We all want to take this man down. I need to know you can keep a clear head about this."

"I understand," Nick said. "You don't have to worry about it."

Selena heard
him say the words but she wasn't sure he meant it.

"We need an operational name for him," Elizabeth said. "Until we know more, we'll call him Cobra."

"Are you going to tell the president about this?" Stephanie asked.

"Yes, but not yet. We need
to know who Cobra is before I go to him."

CHAPTER 3
2

The Hazratbal Mosque
was a magnificent building on the shores of Lake Dal in the city of Srinagar. The mosque was built entirely of white marble and was famous for a shrine housing a true hair of the prophet Mohammed. That put it high on the list of pilgrimage destinations for devout Muslims.

Abdul Afridi
was under no illusions about his chances if he strayed far or long from his protected compound in Pakistan. He was marked for assassination. He couldn't risk the journey to Mecca required of the faithful. Until the day came when he could make the Hajj, Afridi had vowed to visit Hazratbal and view the relic of the Prophet once a year as an act of devotion. He'd slipped in and out of Kashmir many times without being detected.

The
hair of the Prophet could only be viewed on a few special days. One was fast approaching and Afridi had decided to go, in spite of the increased attention focused on him since the attacks in the Philippines.

It was widely believed that he was
responsible. The attacks staged in his name had created problems for him, but whoever was behind it had done him a favor. His status among the jihadists had skyrocketed. His reputation had never been so high. Everyone thought he was lying when he denied involvement. Recruitment was up. Donations were pouring in.

They were needed, the
gold was almost gone.

Afridi thought
back on the day Allah had led him to the coins.

He'd been traveling back to his compound in Pakistan with Abu Khan after meeting with the Taliban leaders in Kandahar. The American drones still targeted vehicles in Taliban territory and they'd gone on foot, accompanied by a mule to carry supplies. Their weapons were hidden. From the air, they were just two more Afghani peasants.

They weren't far from the border with Pakistan, where
his men would meet him with vehicles to take them the rest of the way. It was late in the day and Afridi had begun to think about making camp for the night.

Afridi and Khan were
walking at the bottom of a canyon, following the bed of an ancient watercourse. The ground underneath was a mixture of gravel, rock and coarse sand. Steep rock walls rose above them for thousands of feet on either side.

The mule began tossing his head and braying, pulling on the rope halter Khan used to lead him.

"Stupid beast," Kahn said. He struck the mule with a stick and yanked on the halter. "I'll be glad when we're rid of you."

Overhead a flock of birds took flight, wings beating frantically against the thin mountain air.

The ground trembled beneath their feet. Kahn and Afridi looked at one another. Earthquakes were common in this region. Both spoke at once.

"Earthquake
."

"Get away from the walls."

The mule broke free of Khan's hold and ran down the canyon. Stones began shaking loose from above, bouncing around them. The ground bucked and heaved underfoot. Afridi struggled to keep upright. A low, menacing rumble echoed down the defile, vibrating against the rock walls of the canyon. Ahead, the ancient river bed widened out into a broad, open area.

"Run for it," Khan
shouted.

They staggered in a shambling run
toward the protection of open space. Ahead, a boulder tumbled from high above and struck the crazed mule, crushing the helpless animal beneath its weight. A stone struck Afridi on his shoulder and knocked him to his knees. He cried out in pain, got up and kept running. They passed the twitching body of the mule and stumbled onto the wide part of the canyon floor. When they reached the center, they stopped and waited for the tremor to pass. After what seemed a long time, it subsided.

A
second tremor began, stronger than the first. The air filled with dust and the sound of mountains moving. Afridi fell to the ground and prayed that none of the falling rock would crush him like the mule. Through the dust and flying debris he watched a waterfall of rock collapse onto the path ahead.

The earth stopped moving.

Khan raised himself up on his hands and knees and said, "Do you think it's over?"

"
Insha'Allah it is over."

Afridi
got to his feet. The old riverbed was littered with stones and boulders, some bigger than the one that had killed the unfortunate mule.

"What's that?" Kahn said. He pointed
at a white, curved object sticking up out of loose rocks at the side of the canyon.

They walked closer until they could see what it was. There was more than one.

"Bones," Afridi said. "Big ones. They look like ribs."

"Only one animal big enough to have ribs like that," Kahn said. "Elephant."

"These have been here a long time." Afridi looked around. "The earthquake uncovered them."

"How did
they get here?"

Afridi looked toward the sky. "There used to be a trail up there, a route to India. Nobody's used it for a long time. It's unsafe, the rock is loose. Th
e elephant could have fallen from there."

"
Nobody uses elephants anymore."

Afridi shrugged. "As I said,
no one has used that trail for a long time."

He knelt down over the bones.
A dark shape stuck out from under the pile of rocks.

"What's that?" Khan said.

"It looks like a box," Afridi said.

The two men cleared rocks away. The box was dark with age, made of hard wood. It had rusted hinges and an elaborate iron padlock. The lid was studded with tarnished brass and bound with straps of rotting leather.

"Old," Khan said. "It must've been on the elephant's back."

He used the butt of his AK to break the lock away from the box and lifted the lid. Yellow metal gleamed up at him.
Khan reached into the box and picked up a coin.

"Gold
," he said softly. "The shahada is written upon it."

"That can be no accident," Afridi said. His voice was touched with reverence. "Allah has smiled upon us. This will bring many fighters to our side."

"And many enemies," Khan said, "if they learn of this."

Both men had the same thought. "It must be part of Nader Shah's treasure," Afridi said.

"He's supposed to have come this way," Khan said.

"Only you and I must know of it."

"With the mule dead, there's too much for us to carry away."

"We'll take what we can and hide the rest."

The pile of rocks that had hidden the remains of the elephant was large. It sat at the bottom of a long scar carved out of the canyon wall where the trail had collapsed centuries before. Only the outer layer of the pile had been disturbed by the earthquake. Afridi wondered what else might be under those rocks. Without men and tools to move the boulders, it was impossible to know.

They walked back to the body of the mule and salvaged enough food and firewood for a meal.

"Come, brother," Afridi said. "It's time for the evening prayer. Let us give thanks for Allah's blessing. Tomorrow is soon enough to conceal what we have found."

The next morning they
covered up all signs of the elephant bones and set off for home. If there was anything else under those rocks, it wasn't going anywhere. There was time to plan how it might be done.

Afridi's thoughts came back to the present. The gold from the box was almost gone. It was time to see if there was more. He decided to clear away the rock fall. Afridi had chosen a new lieutenant to replace Khan, Ibrahim Sayeed. Sayeed would pick men who could be trusted from Afridi's fighters.

Afridi stepped outside
his whitewashed house. The view from his walled compound looked up on the snow-covered peaks of the Hindu Kush. A chill in the air hinted at the coming winter. Overhead, the sky was a thin, clear blue. He could hear the women gossiping in the community kitchen across the way.

The peace of the day shattered
as a jet fighter passed low overhead, on its way back to the Pakistani airbase bordering his compound. Afridi didn't mind the loud noise of planes overhead. The location next to the airbase was the reason the Americans and the Indians had avoided targeting him with their drones. They knew where he was and couldn't do a thing about it.

Ibrahim Sayeed sat on a
chair on the hard packed earth, cleaning his rifle. He rose as Afridi came over.

"Salaam aleikum."

"Aleikum salaam,"
Afridi replied. He touched his chest. "We are going to Srinagar. I must visit Hazratbal and fulfill my vow. "

"Is that wise?" Sayeed said. "With the increased surveillance it will be difficult."

"
Insha'Allah
, our enemies will not find us."

Sayeed placed his hand over his heart in acknowledgment.

"When do you wish to leave?"

"In three days' time. Inform our friends in Srinagar."

"Will you at least disguise yourself this time?" Sayeed said. His voice was filled with concern.

Afridi
had never made much effort in the past to alter his appearance on one of these journeys. If Allah wanted to hand him over to his enemies, there was nothing to be done about it. Nonetheless, it wasn't necessary to tempt fate out of pride. It would encourage Sayeed if Afridi listened to him.

"If you think it is the best thing," Afridi said
.

"I do."

Afridi nodded his assent.

"Everything will be ready."

Sayeed
picked up his rifle and walked away to begin preparations. Afridi went back into his hut, unaware the conversation had been overheard.

Everyone thought Wahid Malik a dedicated fighter, committed to the cause.
The truth was somewhat different. Malik worked for Ashok Rao, with orders to avoid all contact unless he had information of vital importance. What Malik had just heard more than qualified. Here in Pakistan, Afridi was beyond the reach of the agency. Once he left the country, he was vulnerable. In Srinagar he could be taken.

It would be difficult to get the information out without being discovered.
Wahid had no radio. A radio could be found and implicate him. He would have to find a way to leave the compound without being caught and questioned.

Inside his house, Afridi
unrolled his prayer rug and turned toward Mecca. He longed to make the Hajj and circle the sacred
Kaaba.
Until that time came, he would fulfill his vow to visit the relic of the Prophet.

Outside, dar
k clouds were forming over the mountains. A storm was coming.

CHAPTER 33

Nick looked through the glass of
the cubicle in ICU and felt his stomach clench. Ronnie's skin was a pale yellow-brown, like weak sun on a desert plain. A bank of monitors over his head traced the electronic fragility of his life. A bag of clear liquid hung from a rack, feeding into his veins.

"It's a miracle he's still alive."

The speaker was Ronnie's doctor. She was a tall redhead with clear blue eyes and pale skin. Nick guessed her age at around forty. The name tag on her white lab coat identified her as Evelyn Fairchild, M.D.

"Were you with him when he was shot?" she said. "If you're the one who kept him from bleeding out, you saved his life."

"I was there. It wasn't me that saved him."

"One of the bullets just missed the
heart and exited his back. A little to the left and that would've been it. Another round destroyed his spleen. We removed that."

"You took out his spleen?"

"What was left of it," she said. "He can live without it."

She waited to see if Nick was going to say anything else. When he didn't, she continued.

"A third bullet perforated the lower abdomen. We had to go in and clean him out. He lost about a foot of intestine but we were able to reattach the two ends. If he recovers, he'll have normal intestinal function."