Intelligent, dynamic, bold, humorous, and more described Captain Amadulah. In Mike’s experience, few equaled the man, and fewer still of his countrymen were his equivalent. It’d been ten years since he’d last talked to the man, but this person sleeping on a metal framed bed covered by a thin, off-white sheet had to be someone else. Even while asleep, Mike could sense the man’s torment before him. How could this man be the same Captain Amadulah Mike had known?
Amadulah suffered tragedies, the war with the Soviets, betrayals, the loss of a wife, and more. Later, he endured more hardships in building his family business. When Mike had met him, that was all mostly past him. Amadulah was always optimistic about life and the adversity he’d gone through. He barely had a harsh word for anyone. Mike could hardly believe what his eyes told him. Deep down, it unsettled him. What happened? A frail, decrepit man resting on an old army bed frame, would that be Mike one day? It was hard to get his head around what could have broken his friend, Ten years ago, Amadulah was a middle-aged man with long black hair and a short salt and pepper beard, the man propped up by pillows, now wore a long white beard that rested on a brown cotton sleep shirt, long white hair stuck out from a sleep cap, on his face coke bottle lenses in thick black frames magnified his eyes. What could have turned a vibrant middle-aged man into a barely recognizable, tired, sick old man?
A breeze blew through the window beside the bed, disturbing the thin cotton drape. Captain Amadulah’s eyes fluttered but didn’t open, the only sign he hadn’t passed. The look on Tom’s face mirrored how Mike felt. Farid reached down and pushed the drape off his father’s shoulder, a grim sadness on his face. The three men looked at each other with a wordless understanding. Fraid’s eyes watered, and they all looked down, uncomfortable with their emotions.
The drape blew across Captain Amadulah’s face, and he opened his eyes, turned to look out the window, and nodded to an unheard rhythm. Farid motioned them to sit in the chairs around his bed.
Amadulah turned at the sound and then focused again out the window. The eyes were what Mike couldn’t fathom, even behind the thick lens. His friend had lost his lust for life. This man had fought the Russians, Warlords, and the Taliban. He had raised great kids, sent them to school in America and Europe, and they had come back to their father. This was a man he had trusted, with whom he had broken bread and helped out of dangerous situations. Mike had even gone so far as to have his friends in Europe check on Amadulah’s kids while they were in boarding school. The stark, unfocused man before him wasn’t the man he had known. Whatever tragedy may have occurred, it couldn’t have been the same as losing Paul, could it? This shell of a man shook Mike to his core.
“Father,” Farid said lightly. “They’re here.”
“Hmm.” Captain Amadulah raised his head to see the five sitting beside his bed. He tried to sit up but was too weak. Farid came to help, but Amadulah waved him away and reached out to Mike for help.
Mike took his dry, slender hand and gently lifted Captain Amadulah to sitting. Before Mike realized what had happened, Amadulah pulled him down and embraced him. Mike dropped his head, the wavy, white hair under his eyes. This was not what he had expected. He heard a soft weeping noise on his shoulder. He sneaked a look at Tom. The surprised look mirrored his own
Farid was even more stunned at the sorrowful, barely audible sob.
He tenderly patted the old man on the back, not knowing what else to do. All the times, the two of them had sat in the watchtower and watched the sunset as they talked. It was time away from the war. Their conversations about general things, life, tough times, and good times. Amadulah had told him, as with his children, his father had sent him to the United States. He'd gone to South Carolina for his studies. Hearing Captain Amadulah speak English in a slight southern drawl had always amused Mike. If he had been born in the States, Captain Amadulah would easily have received a full scholarship from most universities. But, being the son of a wealthy family, even for Americans of that time, it wasn’t a necessity. Money got him in, and hard work produced a four-point zero GPA in agriculture and business. The man had always longed to return to the States. His second visit was as an officer in the Afghani Army to attend officer and then infantry training at Fort Benning, Georgia. War and family responsibilities had prevented him from going back.
Slowly, Captain Amadulah pushed away. Mike was quick to readjust the pillows so he could sit up comfortably.
Amadulah took off his glasses and wiped his eyes. He pointed to Farid. “Get your sister.”
“Yes, Father.”
Mike sat in his chair and felt Tom tapping his foot out of sight of the old man.
“You, Mr. Tom, keep quiet over there.”
Tom sat back in his chair.
Amadulah smiled. “I may look like a broken-down old man, but my mind still works. And I know you well enough to know what you’re thinking, so pipe down.” Captain Amadulah’s lips straightened as Farid and a woman covered head to toe in a black burka entered the room.
The woman walked between the chairs and sat on the bed next to her father. She ruffled the pillows, but he pushed her hands away.
“Sit down next to your brother.”
“Yes, Father.”
Mike's interpretation of her voice was respectful of her father, but there was sadness, too.
It irritated the old man. “And take that ridiculous thing off your head.” He turned to Mike. I love my people and my country, and I am a good Muslim, but sometimes we take things a little too far.”
Mike heard Al and Tom try to suppress a chuckle.
Wide-eyed Julia watched as the woman beside her removed the cloth covering her face and head.
She was in her twenties with almond skin, long black hair, and dark, intelligent eyes.
“What’re you looking at, blondie?”
“Niki!”
The woman looked down at her feet. “I’m sorry, Father, but why are these Americans here?” She looked up and glared at their guests.
“They’re here because my prayers have finally been answered.”
She scowled but remained silent.
Eyebrows arched, Farid turned to Mike and Tom.
The sly smile on Amadulah’s face, along with the “answered prayer,” was… interesting. Mike focused on Amadulah.
“I’m sorry, my friends. I indulge my children and allow them to speak freely to me. A lesson Niki took to the extreme while studying in America.”
“Hmm,” came from the young woman’s throat.
“We should get back to this answering of prayers thing,” Mike said.
The old man nodded. “It’s true I have prayed to Allah daily for you to return. I sometimes came close to losing hope, especially in these hard times, but when I realized it, my belief became stronger. In his wisdom, Allah listened. He brought you here, now. When my family is most in need. Forces from my past have risen from the ashes to try and kill my family and take everything we own.”
He reached his hands out to his children, who took his hands in theirs. “My son and daughter know some of this but are lucky enough not to know everything.” He leaned back, his hands in his lap.
Mike inhaled to speak, but Amadulah cut him off.
“I’ll start from the beginning. Some of it, you know, some you don’t. The CIA recruited me and others to fight the Russians. Our various Mujahideen units caused considerable hardship to the enemy.” He reached out a hand to Mike, who gingerly took it. “The story ends one way or another. In the next day or two, we’ll all be dead, or my enemy will be.”
Mike nodded, not knowing what else to do or say.
“The story between those two points, the beginning and the end, will be of interest to you. You see, I was responsible for your brother’s death.”
Rage ripped through him. Mike tore his hand away, kicked his chair back, and sent it into the wall. Standing over the old man, his hands opened and closed into fists, an overwhelming animal desire consumed him, take revenge on this withered old man. He’d been ready for a long story of woe, how, by the grace of God, blah blah, blah. Face red with rage. He glared down at the sick old man. He’d known something had been wrong those years ago. This wasn’t the vindication of his suspicions. It was betrayal.
Amadulah’s children moved to intervene, but their father stopped them.
Mike leaned forward and looked through the thick lenses at the old man’s eyes.
“I wasn’t there. I did not pull the trigger. But, I’m as guilty.”
“How’s that?” Mike said between gritted teeth.
“The day I wanted you to marry my daughter.” He nodded to the young woman standing between Farid and Julia. “That day I’ll never forget.”
Mike turned to the woman. He’d had a suspicion it was her but hadn’t been sure.
The emotions on Niki’s face changed as rapidly as Mike’s had a moment before. The concern of a protective daughter turned to confused recognition and defiance.
Tom turned from Captain Amadulah, his head rotating from Mike to the young Afghan woman and back. He might have laughed if circumstances had been different. Instead, he was poised for violent action but without a sure target. He wouldn’t be able to hold Mike back and wasn’t sure he should.
The old man tried to reach out. Mike pulled back. Captain Amadula put his hands in his lap, fingers interlaced.
“It wasn’t betrayal,” Captain Amadulah said. He looked at his two children. “It wasn’t.”
A low guttural growl that betrayed his relaxed posture escaped Tom’s mouth. His eyes intent on Amadulah, he waited for the utterance that would set off his anger. Mike held his hand out. He knew Tom. This betrayal was brutal to listen to and harder to accept. But, he would be the one to exact justice, his justice.
Captain Amadulah heard the threat but kept his eyes on Mike. “It was deception by silence, but the situation wasn’t as clear cut as you think. It wasn’t as simple as right or wrong. Things sometimes are never as they seem.”
Mike leaned in, caught himself, and took a step back. “I don’t know what any of that means, and I don’t care.’ His voice trembled. “You knew we were going into an ambush, to our deaths, if the enemy had been better. And you talk about things that aren’t what they seem? It seems that good people died, and you could have stopped it. We wouldn’t have gone if we’d known what was waiting for us.”
Amadulah shifted his gaze to his hands. “Yes.” It was almost a whisper. Everyone leaned in to hear. “You would have gone.” It was simple, short, and to the point.
Anger flushed through him, anger at himself for being contradicted and because Amadulah was right. In combat, Mike was super aggressive and never stopped. On any mission he participated in, in the end, the enemy would be dead, captured, or have run away to parts unknown. It was a trait he had inspired in his Team. Had he been played in some way back then?
“You remember my youngest son, Ahmad?” Captain Amadulah turned to the window and smiled. “He was full of life, as they all are at that age. He was funny and smart, already speaking to you in English as I taught him.” He wiped under the lens of his glasses. He turned and addressed them with red eyes. “The week before your last visit, a man from my past came to my house. He had been a Mujahideen fighter alongside me during the war. Later, we learned he was also working with the Pakistanis, the Chinese, and, we believe, the Russians. Before we could confront him, he was, we thought, killed in a Russian air raid. We never furthered the investigation because we thought he was dead. After the war, he changed his name.” Amadulah snorted. “He joined the Taliban not because he believed in their cause but to gain influence and power. When he arrived here at my home, he was a major leader in the drug trade to the north and east. I didn’t like him, and he didn’t like me, but hospitality is our way, and I treated him with respect and friendship.”
“Father,” Farid said. “I don’t remember this.”
“As soon as the man arrived, I sent you and your brothers and sister downriver. You were to investigate a feud between several of our farmers. We couldn't find your brother, Ahmad, so you went without him. You remember that is the day Ahmad disappeared?”
Farid and Niki nodded.
“When we got there,” Farid said, “the farmers knew of no feud.”
“Yes. You couldn’t find him because Ahmad decided it would be fun to spy on my guest and I. Ahmad was found out like all little boys who play hide and seek.” Amadulah looked out the window, a shallow sigh coming from his nose. “He couldn’t stop giggling.”
Niki touched his leg. Amadulah’s head moved back and forth, and she took her hand away.
“Our business concluded. My guest left. I didn’t follow him out. It was a breach of hospitality not to take him to my door, and for my disobedience, God cursed me. The man’s business I knew well. It spoke of betrayal and murder. He wanted a type of partnership. I wouldn’t stand for his method of business. He decided to ensure my help and silence. Unknown to me, his men in the courtyard had subdued my guards and disabled my trucks.” Amadulah put his hand to his face. “So many times I have run this through my mind. If only I had gone out with him. I could have stopped him from kidnaping Ahmad.”
Captain Amadulah jostled the pillows behind him and sat up. “Ultimately, I had to agree to send men to the Tal Bez Valley as my old comrade instructed. But I commanded them to leave when the fighting started and look for Ahmad.” He faced Mike and Tom. “The day you came to my compound, all I had to do was not tell you what was in the Tal Bez. That is where, in my desperation, I tried to prevent you from going by offering my daughter to you in marriage. I knew you wouldn’t accept. But I hoped you would play along since I had mentioned the Taliban fighters I invited. You could capture them as a wedding present.” He drew in a rattling breath. “It was stupid of me. I should have told you everything then, but I didn’t.”
The scowl dropped from Tom’s face.
Julia and Al glanced at each other they hadn’t been there and didn’t fully understand the dynamics of emotions between the others, but a kidnapped child was enough for them to feel sympathy for the old man.
The Captain’s children sat, leaving Mike the only one standing. He wasn’t going to sit, not in this house.
“A few of my men who went to the Tal Bez escaped. They saw what was coming. They’d die by your hand or the hand of the men who watched them to ensure they fought. They managed to kill some of their guards and tried to leave before anyone could stop them. Your bombs killed some of them. The rest were executed when they tried to disengage from the fight. One man he let live to give me a message.”
He looked at his children. “The truth I withheld was all for nothing. The anguish I felt for Ahmad.” He looked up at Mike. “The torment of not telling you the truth was all replaced by more sorrow. When my man returned, he delivered the news of my soldiers and the saddest news possible. Soon after leaving my home, they slit Ahmad’s throat and buried him in a shallow grave about a mile from here, just off the side of the road.”
Mike looked down at his fists. He unclenched them and put his hands in his pockets. Ahmad. He’d been smart and funny. Mike looked at the floor. The kid would do anything for Mike. The boy would get him tea, something to eat, Ahmad would tell him eight-year-old secrets that no one else knew, not even his father. For whatever reason, the boy idolized Mike, and Mike had felt a kinship with him that went beyond blood. Mike had taught him how to read a map and even gave him a compass as a birthday gift. He swore to the rest of the team that Ahmad was better at land navigation than some of the soldiers in his Ranger Class. He’d even called back to the States and talked to his soon-to-be ex-wife about inviting Ahmad into their home. The boy would soon be ready to travel to the West for his private schooling.
Mike sat down. “You are not forgiven.”
Captain Amadulah dropped his head. “It is God’s will.” He raised his hand to his face, removed his glasses, and wiped his eyes. “I understand that.”
He replaced his glasses. “If you can find it in your heart.” He paused. “Today can be the day you take revenge for both our losses and our families.”
Mike kept his silence. He didn’t know what the Captain’s plans were, and he wasn’t sure he wanted anything to do with them.
With a renewed vigor in his voice, Amadulah sat up. Niki placed more pillows behind him to help him sit. “Since the day I found out about Ahmad’s death, I made a pact with God. Not to only find and kill the man you’re looking for. I also want to destroy Baabaa Hotak's empire.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “What? How do you know about him?”
“Back when we were here.” Tom leaned forward. “The Captain had a pretty extensive intelligence network.”
“And since the day I lost Ahmad, I have used my money and influence to expand that network. My people are a part of everything, the drug trade, the government, the Army. There isn’t much I don’t know, but the things I want to know sometimes elude me.”
"I can help,” Julia said. “I can fill in the gaps in your knowledge. For some time now, Afghanistan has been my job and my passion..”
“That is kind of you to offer. I’m not sure there’s anything you can tell me I don’t know.”
“I know a lot.” She accepted his refusal as a challenge.
“Perhaps you can tell me how Baabaa Hotak knew we would be traveling on the road we were ambushed on?” Mike pulled out the folded photo of Tom, Al, and himself and gave it to Amadulah.
“Yes, the man who took this sent it to Baabaa Hotak. He also sent it to me.” Amadulah handed it back. “In this country, you have to expect duplicity, and you have to pay very well in the hope of loyalty and sometimes even then.” He shrugged.
That’s how Farid knew it had been them. Mike glanced at Farid, one minor mystery solved.
“We planned to meet you on the road closer to the compound,” Farid said.
“I know,” Julia said. “Baabaa Hotak is in the Tal Bez Valley, and I suspect an American worked for Hotak at the U.N. Headquarters in Kabul before we pulled out. This person no doubt tried to keep Hotak out of any intel reports.”
“That’s my thought as well. Baabaa Hotak is currently in Kabul, and there wasn’t just one traitor. There was another traitor from France and two more in the Afghan Army. As far as I know, all four are senior ranking officers and still work for Baabaa Hotak.”
“Well.” She glanced at the others for validation. She’d been right, just not about the number. “How? Why would they?”
“It’s not so hard to understand. If you offer enough money to some people, you’ll get them to break their oath. They will change their loyalty, demean themselves anything for more money. Afghani Generals are cheap. The Frenchman and the American were much more expensive. And now that your forces are gone, they provide Hotak with more diverse information.”
“I need a sat phone. I need to contact my boss and let him know.” Julia leaned forward in anticipation. "Do you know who they are?”
“Yes, of course."
“This could work for us.” Al glanced over at Mike and Tom. “We could contact the guys back in the rear and tell them about the U.S. and French traitors. Wrap them up with a bow.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t allow you to communicate with anyone. I won’t allow them or anyone else to alert Hotak of your presence here or my involvement.”
“How do you know he’s in Kabul?” Al said.
“I know because he is bribing several high-ranking Afghan politicians, one of whom works for me. He wants more of his opium shipments to be completely unhindered as they leave the country.” He faced Al. “And, no, there will be no arrests. I won’t alert Hotak. And if they were arrested, it wouldn’t matter. Wherever these traitors might be incarcerated, Hotak would find them and kill them before they could be of any use.”
“So,” Tom said. “He went from fighting with the Muhj against the Soviets to being a drug dealer.”
Amadulah’s lips twitched upward. “In a sense. His family was always involved in the opium trade but in a small way. With Hotak back in Afghanistan during the Russian occupation, their business grew profoundly. When the Taliban took over, it became even larger. Now Hotak controls, in one capacity or another, sixty percent of the drug trade in my country. He ships his product all over the world.”
“How do you know all this?” Julia said.
“My family has always had dealings in the emerald, hashish, and opium business. We also started small. Over the generations, we expanded and built our family business. I now control twenty percent of the opium trade.”
Julia sat back, widening her eyes in surprise.
“Does that offend you, my dear?”
Farid and Niki glanced at her, Farid’s face curious, Niki’s scornful.
“It does, actually.” She looked to her left. The three men had all seen her reaction. None of them showed, outwardly at least, the same discomfort she felt. “Aren’t any of you concerned or upset by this?”
Mike shook his head. “Tom and I knew all about his business from before. Then, our mission was to fight bad guys, not make drug busts. We had, then and now, bigger problems than what he does for a living.”
“Yeah, but.” She lifted her head, her eyes staring at the mud ceiling. “What he does ultimately hurts people. That’s not right.”
Mike opened his mouth, but before he could speak, Al broke in.
“What would you have us do? We’re not the DEA. He isn’t going to help us with the traitors, but later he may. And if he can help us reach our target, that’s a plus.” He glanced over his shoulder at Tom and Mike. “Let him help. Because the truth is we need it.”
Mike took in a breath to add to what Al had said, but Tom spoke first.
“Julia, don’t sweat the small stuff.”
“Small stuff?”
Al nodded. “Small stuff.”
She looked at the two of them disbelievingly.
The three impassive American men waited for her to come to the same conclusion they’d already made.
“Captain Amadulah wants revenge for Ahmad, and I say hell yes. Ahmad was a good little guy.” Tom put his hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Mike, we know what he wants. I don’t like getting bested in a fight, and that was damn close. I want to kill whoever ordered that ambush on the road. It won’t bring back Greg or Maheem, but it will make me feel better.” He took his hand off Mike’s shoulder and rested it on Captain Amadulah’s bed, watching Julia. “So let’s get on board for the big win.”
She closed her eyes. “Fine, I’m in.” She opened them and saw Amadulah watching her. “I get it. I didn’t come here to stop the drug trade. I came to find out what was happening in the Tal Bez Valley. But that doesn’t mean I won’t tell people what I learned about you.”
“Whatever God decides.” Amadulah held his hand out to his children to stay silent. “But, what did you learn here? I am as committed as you to seeing your mission complete. I’m using my considerable resources to help you. And, I claim to have some part in the opium trade. A claim you would never be able to prove or have anyone act on.”
She looked back at him, her lips held tightly together.
“I will, of course, give you the names of the traitors when you return.”
“You’re in?” Mike said.
“I’m in,” she said tensely. “I said I’m in.”
“Good,” Mike said.
“Hey, wait a minute.” Tom frowned, looking at the two Amadulah children. “Where are the rest of your brothers?”
Amadulah sighed. “My wife and two sons, Gawhar and Salar, are all gone. Murdered by the same man who took Ahmad from me.”
The view from the observation tower was one Mike never got tired of. The tower above the main house provided an excellent three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view. Amadulah’s family had controlled the wide brown river for centuries, flowing north to south. Sandbars interrupted the flow of water at irregular intervals up and downstream. Large patches of green crops grew on both sides of the river. The plants enjoyed the primitive irrigation techniques employed by generations of Afghani farmers and are still used today. On the far side of the fields, the color of the harsh, dry land turned sandy brown, interspersed with dark patches of rock.
The sun, about to fall below the mountain tops to the west, cast its last rays of light before night, a red hue slowly falling below the peaks many miles away. It was a sight best viewed from the tower, and one Mike had appreciated many times before and, for the moment, a reminder that there was beauty and peacefulness on this earth. But fleeting seconds of reflection were all he allowed himself, thoughts of peace and happiness hadn’t intruded into his mindset for a long time. Those things were for people back in the world. His focus would always remain on the death of his brother and how he would enact revenge on any and all responsible for Paul’s death.
“I wish I were going with you,” Farid said, leaning over the parapet. His gaze rested on his family’s crops and the river that gave them life.
It was a tight fit with Farid and the four Americans.
“I begged my father to let me come, but I’m the heir to this land.” He turned around and leaned on the edge of the tower’s lookout. “He knows he has little time left. I think what keeps him alive is the fulfillment of his promise to God.”
“I’m still not happy with your dad.” Mike laid both hands on the edge, watching the river.
Farid dropped his head. "Yes, I understand."
“In this situation, I hope that he will fulfill his promise.” Mike’s hands balled into fists, then relaxed. “When we leave tomorrow, my only focus will be to make that happen.” He let his eyes follow the current edging around a sand bar. “In the next few days, I imagine either Hotak or I will be dead.” The sentiment was supposed to have been a silent declaration to himself, but it slipped out between his lips.
“Ease up there, big dog.” Al chuckled.
Facing the others, Mike let them know his thoughts. “I don’t have a death wish. I don’t.” He made eye contact with the other three Americans. “But, Paul, the ambush, then finding out about Ahmad and what happened to the rest of Farid’s family. I was dedicated to doing this before. Now. Nothing is going to stop me. If I have to sacrifice myself to avenge Paul, so be it. I don’t expect any of you to go as far as I do.”
“I’m with you, boss.” Tom’s tone and body emphasized his words.
Al pointed a thumb at Farid. “I don’t have the same feelings about his family. But I would never desert a brother, and Bruce and Maheem need payback. You know I’m in.”
Julia looked at the four men. “Why’s everyone staring at me?” She shrugged. “I said I’m in.”
Al grinned. “You haven’t heard the best part yet, so…”
“Right,” Mike said. “If Captain Amadulah’s intel is right, Hotak should be back at the valley no later than the day after tomorrow. Farid’s men are going to drive us up tonight. They will supply us with everything we need for a couple of days.”
“Yes, I was there when we talked about this.”
Mike lifted his hand and rubbed his chin and mouth. “The rest of it, then.”
She caught on. "And when you say the best part, you mean the worst part."
Mike's lips turn up. "Exactly. We don’t have an E&E plan.”
“A what?”
He pulled his hand down and sighed. “We don’t have a way out. We don’t have an escape and evasion plan. Amadulah's people aren't staying, they can’t. Nobody is coming to help or rescue us. We’re on our own.”
“Oh, is that all? I thought there might be some worry that you'll be the last men I ever see.” She smirked at them.
Tom chuckled.
“This is serious.”
“So, how do we get out?”
“We’ll figure it out when we get there. Look. The three of us are all retired. We’re old, over the hill, divorced. Those of us who have kids are adults now with their own lives. We don’t have real jobs. We do this shit, and we’re good at it. We’re former action guys trying to hang on, I guess.
Al smiled. “FAG’s.”
Farid cocked his head. “FAGS? Former Action, oh, excellent.”
Mike lifted his shoulders. “The point is, you’re young. You have a life ahead of you. I’ve spoken to Amadulah about your staying; he’ll get you out of the country.”
“You have, huh?” Julia stood full up, arms across her chest. “That helicopter ride in, I’ve never been so excited. The ambush. I’d never been so scared. I knew going in this would be dangerous, and I wasn’t happy about it. I was good with that. The thought that it might worsen means I’m even less happy now, but I’m going.”
Mike drew in a breath to speak, but Julia cut him off.
“Don’t talk, listen.” She raised her voice to make sure she had their attention. “I have devoted much of my professional and personal life to this mission. And while there are some new wrinkles to the parameters we started with, it is still my mission. I’m more invested in this than anything I’ve ever done before. I will see this to the end, and I will not accept anything else from you or anyone else,” her eyes moved to Al and Tom, “don’t even think about trying to stop me. You better get it in your heads, we, all four of us, will finish this mission. And the three of you, the over-the-hill gang, will do what needs to be done, and after, you’ll get me home alive. I won’t accept anything less.” She put her hand out. “This is it, you’re in, or you’re out.”
“Man.” Tom’s lips turned up into a smile. “You remind me of my ex, most of my exes. Well, all my exes.”
“You shut it and put your hand in here.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Tom placed his palm on the back of her hand, smiling.
Al reached in and put his hand on Tom’s.
Mike stared at the three of them, shook his head, and put his hand in.
Tom moved his hand up and down. “Ready, ready break.”
“Now, let’s get ready to go,” Julia said.
The over-the-hill gang all grinned and filed down the ladder.
Julia waited until the last man descended the ladder, turned, and leaned over the parapet beside Farid.
Finally, Farid turned one elbow resting on the mud ledge. “That was very impressive. I’ve never seen anyone talk like that to men like them, let alone a woman doing it.”
Julia leaned against the half wall and took a few measured breaths. “Impressive? Do you think so? I’ve never done anything like that before. Tell people off.” She pushed off and moved to the ladder, her teeth exposed through her smile. “I was almost as scared there as when we hit that ambush.”
Farid laughed. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
Thank You for Reading!
Wrath’s Pit is a serial story. It is ongoing even as you read. The table of contents, with links to existing portions of the story, can be found at the link below.
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