“Looks like things have changed since the last time we were here.” Mike glanced over at Tom.
Eyes on the compound, Tom grunted.
“Let’s get down to the others.”
Mike shimmied down the rear side of the mound. The farther from the crest, the faster he moved, joining Julia and Al at the bottom.
“This is the place,” Mike said.
“It’s changed.” Tom shook off the puzzled look and shrugged.
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing?” Mike sat close to Julia and Al. “It used to be a series of mostly smaller buildings surrounding the main wall. The main house was inside the wall.”
“Now,” Tom said, “it’s a lot bigger, a lot more fortress-looking.”
“The place is about five or six times the area it used to be, and it’s all surrounded by a twelve-foot high mud wall. Each corner has a guard tower with two guards and a machine gun. There’s another guard tower in the center, where the main building is. It's higher up than the others, with guards and a machine gun.”
The sun crested the mountains behind them. There would be no more hiding in the early morning twilight.
“We’ve had our eyes on the compound for about an hour now. The guards are taking their jobs seriously. No one is sleeping. They’re watchful. A guard moves from post to post along the wall every few minutes.”
“Do you think he’s still there?” Julia said.
Mike lifted his hands palms forward. “I don’t think he would have left.”
“If he’s not there,” Tom said, “we can go back to where we hid the truck and take off. But I’m with Mike. He’s probably there.”
“Why?”
Mike cleared his throat. “He told us this land had been in his family for generations. He would never leave, and he’d fight anyone who tried to take it.” Mike looked back in the direction they’d driven from. The road had been behind the high ground and out of sight of the guards. It then turned straight into the open land between the hills and Cpt—Amadulah’s fortress.
Between the fortress and where the road came into sight of the compound sat an unmanned guard shack. Beyond the guard post, the road to the compound serpentined left and right. Handmade berms ran along both sides of the road. The open area to the left and right of the road rock walls extended out from the berms and surrounded the property.
Outside the fortress wall was open standoff. It gave the guards clear fields of fire for about four hundred meters. Some of the open area was natural, from what Mike remembered. Parts of the standoff had been pushed back toward the hills. The mound they sat behind was one of only a few spots that didn’t allow the guards clear 365-degree vision. Perhaps it had been too big or too much trouble to move. Mike didn’t know but was grateful it was there.
“My guess is someone is trying to take this land from Amadulah.” Mike pointed to the east. “That river is the primary water source in this area. It irrigates all the crops grown in this region. The source is in the mountains farther east, where he also maintains loose control. Cpt. Amadulah commands the whole river and collects taxes from everyone living near it. By the look of the war footing the fortress is on, I’d say someone wants control of the river.”
“Great,” Al said. “We’re walking into someone else’s war.”
“Yeah.” Mike looked at the other three. “I don’t see how we have any other choice. The truck’s running on E, we have no supplies, and we’re done in. We don’t have any way to contact the rear. The OPCEN knows we’re out here, but this thing was so secret they don’t know where we are or when we’ll be back. We can’t move forward, and we can’t move back without help.” He rested his forearms across his knees. “I’m open to suggestions?”
No one replied. Mike shrugged his shoulders. He had his answer.
“Al, you and Julia, stay here.” Mike stood. “Tom and I will leave our AKs with you. We’ll walk out to the road and call attention to ourselves.”
“That sounds like a good way to get shot,” Tom said.
He reached down and pulled Tom to his feet. “Again, I’m open to suggestions.”
Tom shook his head. “And why am I going again?”
“We’ll walk out there hands up, attract their attention, and try to get an invite in. Some of them may remember us. That’s what I’m hoping for. Once we’re inside, we’ll send for Al and Julia.” Mike turned to Al. “If you hear a bunch of shooting inside or we don’t return, that probably means you’re on your own.”
“Al.” Tom reached down and pulled him up. “If I get killed, make sure my ex-wife doesn’t find out. She’ll laugh herself silly.”
“You got it, buddy.” Al hesitated. “Which ex-wife?”
“It’s best if none of them knows.”
Mike helped Julia up.
“You know I’m no soldier, but this does seem a little risky.”
“Yeah, well…” Mike tapped Tom on the arm. “Ready?”
“No, but let’s get this over with.”
“Take these.” Mike handed Al his AK.
Tom frowned but held his AK out.
“Going out there unarmed is one reason not to shoot us on sight. I hope.”
“Is there another reason,” Tom asked.
“We’re Americans and not the Afghani’s who they’re fighting.”
“Hmm.” Tom rolled his eyes.
“It’s a stretch, I know. The way we look, out here in the middle of nowhere, it’ll give them cause to wonder before they start shooting.”
“Stop trying to build up my confidence. Let’s do it.”
They turned, put their hands in the air, and walked toward the road from behind the mound.
“Mike, did I ever tell you that sometimes I don’t like you.”
Almost immediately as they cleared the mound, a shout rang out from a guard tower. The rest of the guards followed the first man’s example and shot a round into the air. A metal-on-metal clanging alarm sounded from inside the fortress.
One man’s voice raised above the other guards. The rest fell silent.
The hair on Mike's arms stood at attention. All the shouting, he’d expected that. The sudden quiet was alarming.
Tom grunted.
Mike stopped at the berm beside the road and faced the compound, hands up. He noted the machine guns in the two closest corner towers were manned and pointed at them. In the high center tower, it looked like the guard had some sniper weapon aimed at them.
A guard challenged them. His voice and poor attitude were firmly directed toward them.
Mike shouted back. “Hello, we’re here to see Captain Amadulah. We’re Americans.”
This made the guard lean in and over the tower wall.
“If we only had a camera. The look on his face,” Tom whispered.
“Shh.” Mike raised his voice. “We’re Americans. We’re here to see Captain Amadulah.”
The guard drew himself back, turned, and looked over the inside of the wall into the compound. He listened to someone inside. Mike couldn’t distinguish any words, not that he’d understand them. The conversation went on for what Mike thought was an exceptionally long time.
Tom started to fidget next to him. “That’s a lot of talking they’re doing. If I know Afghani body language, I’d say that guy in the tower isn’t on our side.”
“It doesn’t look that way.”
They heard a shout from inside. That ended the discussion. The guard touched his chest and said a few more words. Mike was pretty sure it translated as it’s God’s will. The guard turned toward the gate and shouted down to someone else inside.
The gate opened, and two Afghanis walked out. Their AKs pointed toward the strange, dirty Americans but held low, not quite at the ready.
“They don’t look too happy about having to come out here.”
“No, they don’t,” Mike said. “Let’s give them our winningest smiles and keep our arms up.”
One of the guards stopped in front of them while the other walked behind them. The man was more intent on looking behind him than keeping an eye on them. The man in front spoke to them, waved his gun toward the fortress, and stepped out of the way.
“Phase one complete. We got our invite.”
“Keep smiling.” Mike looked back then at the guard behind them. “We’re Americans. We’re…”
The man shouted at them and waved his gun.
“Okay, we’re moving, we’re moving.”
“Not much for small talk, is he,” Tom said.
They passed the guard, and both Afghanis fell in behind them.
“The way these guys are acting, they’re afraid of something. I wonder if we jumped from the frying pan into the fire?”
“You know,” Tom said. “I was starting to feel good. We didn’t get shot, someone inside wants to talk to us, and you go and say something like that.”
“Sorry, buddy.”
The gate closed behind them. Their two guards walked around them and joined more men, their AKs pointed at the two Americans.
The two stared at the twenty men, and the twenty stared back at them. None of the Afghani's looked familiar. The men stood there, not uttering a word, their eyes taking in his and Tom’s every move. The silence made Mike uncomfortable, so he decided to break the ice. “We’re Americans. We’ve come to see Captain Amadulah. Can one of you fine young gentlemen take us to him.”
The Afghani’s met his query with a harsh silence.
Tom whispered out of the side of his mouth. “Cricket, cricket.”
Mike shook his head at Tom. “We’re Americans…”
“Baseball and apple pie-loving Americans.” The voice came from behind the line of guards.
Mike couldn’t see who was talking.
“You know,” the unseen man said. “When I woke up this morning, I thought to myself, I wonder if I’m going to see two dirty, filthy Americans today. And what do you know, here in the middle of nowhere, you come to my door.”
Mike and Tom looked up. A man walked from behind the guards up wooden stairs and stood on a platform that overlooked the compound.
Mike squinted and put his hands to his face to cover his eyes from the sun. The sun’s brightness was directly behind the man as if he planned it. Maybe he did, Mike thought.
“You two are the sorriest-looking excuses. What kind of Americans are you?”
Tom smiled. "The best kind."
Whoever was up there, Mike knew it wasn’t Captain Amadulah. This man was too young, and his voice was too raspy.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?”
“Sorry,” Mike said. “I can’t see you with the sun, and I don’t recognize the voice.”
The man jumped to a lower platform and to the ground.
Mike’s eyes widened. “Farid! The last time we saw you, you were returning to Europe to complete your schooling.” Mike laughed and held out his hand.
Farid took it and shook it vigorously. “My friends. It’s been a long time. I didn’t think I’d ever see you two again.”
“I didn’t think we’d ever be back.”
Farid turned to a grinning Tom. “Mike, you’re still hanging around with this loser.”
Tom laughed. “Frankenstein, it’s been a long time.”
Mike laughed with the two of them. Tom gave Farid his nickname the first time they’d met. Farid was home for summer break from boarding school. He and Tom were instant friends. They were both a couple of wise asses. The nickname Tom chose for him was due to Farid’s long head, high forehead, and short black hair.
“Bring it in.” Tom reached in for a hug.
“Whoa, big boy.” Farid put his hands up and pushed Tom back. “You two smell like Afghani goats, well worse, actually.”
The three of them chuckled.
“It’s been a long day and a half.”
“It’s a story I’m looking forward to hearing.”
“What’s up with your voice?” Tom said.
Farid pulled the scarf down from around his neck, exposing a nasty scar. “I got shot in the throat about a year back when our troubles here started.”
“Sorry, buddy,” Tom said. “How are your brothers?”
Farid’s face turned red. “Dead. Killed by the people trying to take our wealth and land.”
“Sorry for your loss,” Mike said. “How’s the old man?”
“Sick.” Farid looked at the ground for a moment. “Dying. It’s God’s will.”
“I sent word you two were here. He’ll want to see you.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Mike said. “But, we want to see him.”
“Hmm. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
“Some food and water would be nice, too,” Tom said.
“Whatever you need. As you know, Afghani hospitality is a trademark of our people.”
“If we could impose on you for one more thing,” Mike said.
“Of Course.”
“On the other side of the berm, we came out from are two more Americans from our group. They could use some food and a bath, too.”
Farid stoked his short beard for a moment. “Mike, you never cease to amaze.”
“That’s what I do.”
“Another surprise.” Farid smiled. “Not a problem, the more the merrier, as they say.”
Mike followed Farid into the house, the others behind him. Once inside, they turned right and walked down a long set of stone stairs. A lone light bulb in the center of the stairway reflected off the dark rock walls. Farid led them into a long, narrow room with two electric lights that cast shadows into the dungeon-like room. Mike wasn’t worried about the room's appearance. He’d been here before. The rock and cement room was well underground and cool all year round. It was a welcome relief from the outside. On the near and far side were wooden benches and tables. A small bridge separated the two sides of the room. In the center was a ten-foot-wide, slow-moving underground river. Years before, when Captain Amadulah’s grandfather owned this land, he rerouted the river to run into one end of the room and out the other.
Farid left them with towels and bars of soap on a table. The two men who had been in the bath before didn’t hesitate and striped. Mike took off his button-down shirt, revealing the tomahawk in a harness on his back. It was the last thing to come off before he grabbed a soap bar and sat on the edge.
Tom saw the Tomahawk and smiled. “I thought that piece of junk got burned up in the truck?”
“It’s uncomfortable as hell, but I’ve been wearing it the whole time.” He sat, letting his feet and lower legs hang in the water. Inching in would prolong the pain. The water was cold. “I’m going in.” Mike blew out several loud breaths and fell in.
Tom jumped in, trying to splash the others. He stayed submerged for a full twenty seconds, then jumped straight up. “Holy freaking balls, it’s freezing.”
Mike was wet and cold, and the massive splash soaked him again, but it was glorious. “It’s way colder than I remember.” He sank under and scrubbed his head.”
Unsure what to do, Julia watched them strip and enter the water. Their two heads were the only body parts exposed to the air.
Mike looked at Al and Julia. “No time like the present.”
She looked back, giving him a half-hearted smile.
With a series of deep breaths, Al jumped up and down like a boxer might do before the first round. “I hate the cold.” He stripped and jumped in, same as Tom.
“You know,” Julia said. “I’m not all that comfortable with this.”
“Suit yourself,” Mike smiled at her discomfort. “But you won’t see Captain Amadulah looking and smelling like that.”
Julia raised her chin, eyes on the dark, damp ceiling. “Great.” She looked back at the bench, sat down, and untied her boots. She stood and began to unbutton her shirt. A feeling came over her, and she glanced up. The men were doing an excellent job of appearing not to look. “Hey, this isn’t a striptease show. Turn around till I get in.”
Chuckles reverberated off the walls, but they turned their backs to her.
“You know.” Tom couldn’t help himself. “We’re all probably going to die tomorrow. The least you could do is grant a man a last wish and let me watch.”
“Pff. Not no, but hell no. And as a woman who may die herself soon, my last wish isn’t to provide entertainment to a bunch of guys I barely know. Especially guys prancing around in their birthday suits.”
They laughed, their eyes focused on the back wall.
“Prance?” Al said. “Sashay, yes, but never prance.”
“By the way, I have a boyfriend back home, so I’d just assume we never bring this up again.” She dropped to neck level in the water, her breath seizing in her throat. “Okay, I’m in.” She raised her hand, the clear water running through her fingers. “It looks pretty clean.”
“It is, but,” Mike said, “I wouldn’t drink it.”
They faced each other, only their heads exposed. While they scrubbed, Mike took the lead. “We know the Captain’s family pretty well.” He inclined his head toward Tom. “Farid wasn’t as surprised at our arrival as I would have expected when we showed up.”
“Agreed,” Tom said. “He’s a good kid, and we do have a relationship. And in this world, strange stuff happens, but the two of us show up as we did, bringing in Al and Julia. Four Americans don’t pop up out of nowhere, and all we get is, oh, it’s you guys. It doesn’t feel right.”
“Maybe he heard about the ambush,” Julia said. “He knew some Americans were ambushed, then we showed up.”
“He’s a quick kid,” Tom added. “He’s smart and adaptable, and he might have made the connection of some ambushed Americans. But not these two Americans.” He pointed at himself and Mike. He knew it was us when we showed up.”
“Maybe.” Mike splashed water on his face, thinking. “The last time we were here. I got this funny feeling that something wasn’t quite right.”
Tom was washing his beard and hair with the bar of soap. “How so?”
“The Op in the Tal Bez was what, about two or three weeks later?”
“About two weeks, yeah?”
“What happened first? The marriage proposal before anything else. He has it all planned out. The Team would stay around his compound while guests come from all over, and the big day would happen about two weeks later. He was adamant about us staying close by. The festivities could bring potential danger from the Taliban.”
“I do remember that it was strange. The vibe was different than any other time we came by. I chalked it up to your impending marriage and refusal.”
“Right, later during that visit, I sat down with him for tea. I asked him if he had any intel on the Tal Bez Valley. He said no. I asked if he’d heard about any meeting of HVTs, and again, he said no. He quickly brought the conversation back to the wedding. He pretty much ignored all my questions about the valley or anything else. He said he knew nothing and had no info on anything.”
“Now that you mention it, I remember you coming out of that meeting looking confused or… something.”
“He… just acted wrong. I thought it was because of his daughter and me. After we left, the whole thing never did sit well with me. Then Tal Bez happened. Later, I thought he may have had something to do with it. At the very minimum, he knew enough to warn us. I'm sure of that. What happened in the Valley, he knew what was coming, and he could have warned us but didn’t.”
Tom shook his head, inhaling through his teeth. “I don’t know, boss. He was always on the up and up with us. Everything he ever gave us was gold.”
“I know. I don’t know if I believe it, either. All I’m saying for now is we’ll have to watch ourselves while we’re here.”
“Agreed,” Tom said.
Julia and Al nodded in agreement.
They all looked up at the stairwell.
The slippers, pants, shirt, vest, and then the face of Farid entered the chamber. Farid held a stack of towels, clothing, and sandals. He set them down on the bench next to him. “All is well, I see, good.” He grinned down at them, his eyes lingering on Julia. “My father knows you’re here and looks forward to seeing you. Come up as soon as you're done, and I’ll take you there. Don’t worry about your clothing; I’ll have them laundered.”
He half-turned and stopped. “My father isn’t well. We suffered some losses, and he has yet to recover fully.”
Before Mike could question him, Farid hurried up the stairs, closing the door behind him.
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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