The Puppetmasters (34 page)

In the early evening, Rashid made a fire and they had a meager meal of bread, melon, and nuts. Rashid had plenty of money with him, but it was imperative that they hide from the troops now scouring the nearby countryside. Poya offered to go out to the Bamiyan morning market first thing in the morning pretending to find some day labor work. He would listen to the news and bring back word to Rashid. Kendall was afraid for his safety but knew that was the most practical solution for them.

Rashid could see that Kendall was miserable. He decided that based on what Poya learned tomorrow, they would determine their next course of action in the evening. But he told himself that they would leave as soon as it was safe.

As the evening wore on and the stars shown brighter, Rashid and Poya sat on either side of Kendall. They decided to distract her by telling her what they could hear from the other caves. Voices carried in the tunnel-like tombs, and many conversations swirled around them. An excited teenager above them was telling his family that when he was walking back from the market, he came upon a police commander and two officers who had rounded up a family of eight at the side of the road. The teenager hid behind a piece of old, rusting farming equipment to hear what was being said. The patriarch of the family of eight was accused of murdering two local brothers when he could not pay his debt to them.
The police commander explained his mission and then promptly killed all eight family members to avenge the deaths. The young man waited behind the tree for an hour as the policemen searched every body … rifling through their clothes and belongings … taking what they wanted for themselves.

The large extended family living on their one side was loud and boisterous. The father was railing against the local government, because last week his ten year old had stolen a loaf of bread from the market. He was caught, and two fingers were cut off. The youngster was going to recover, although he also had a bad cough. The parents were angry that he had not been able to scavenge in the streets and countryside for a week now.

Kendall had been sipping some tea and choked when they recounted the story. “Stop!” she hissed. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

She was surprised how well Poya adapted to their bleak existence in the cave. He was happy to be with Rashid and away from the palace. He missed the horses, but was glad that he was no longer being mistreated by the Shazeb family. He curled up and slept with a smile on his face.

Kendall took one last walk under the watchful eyes of Rashid out to the boulders to relieve herself by the jeep and then settled in for the night. She tried not to think about how dirty her hands and face were. As she drifted off to sleep on the hard surface of the cave’s floor, on which only a thin pad had been hastily thrown down, she kept waking to voices all around her. It was the oddest thing she had ever encountered … living in a space with no front door … completely at the mercy of her neighbors’ whims. The thought was so surreal that she actually smiled. She told herself that it was probably hysteria.

Rashid lay on his bedroll thinking about what he hadn’t told Kendall. People were talking about him, having heard from trips to the Bamiyan market about the deaths of the Afghan leader’s family. The people thought how wonderful it would be to get the reward money. So long as Kendall kept out of sight, and Rashid’s jeep wasn’t recognized, they would not be discovered. But it was too much to hope for. In reality, the trio with their clean clothes and quiet ways, who kept to themselves as if they were better than everyone else, was attracting attention. It was only a matter of time before someone tossed a match onto the perfectly built haystack.

T
HE
U.S.
INTELLIGENCE COMMUNITY AND
government leaders were reeling. Along with the world, they had just watched the Israeli video about the rescue of the Orion Premier CEO and CFO. The Israelis paraded Paul Fields in front of the cameras. He looked well enough but seemed stunned and, for once, at a loss for words. Glenn Carson was reported to be in serious but stable condition, now that he was receiving the best medical care.

There were scant details on the “rescue.” Israel simply stated that its carrier was in nearby waters on a routine mission and had received a distress call from within an Afghanistan government building. After confirming the source and accuracy of the report, it sent a helicopter that landed on the rooftop and rescued the two Orion executives. No information was given about Kendall Radcliffe or Rashid Sharif. But the Israeli spokesperson did say that the helicopter was forced to take off abruptly and use evasive maneuvers to get back to the awaiting ship in the Arabian Sea. Nothing was said about the Afghanistan doctor that accompanied the Americans.

The world was stunned. Nothing made sense. Afghanistan had a competent military complete with its own capable air force that should have responded. Israel should never have been able to fly into Afghanistan airspace, let alone land on a government rooftop. The only conclusion was that the Afghan military communication network and radar had been jammed, deactivated, or destroyed.

The bombing that was seen by satellite during the day did not target the military. But the images showed the presidential palace had been bombed. No one was sure what the story was. Israel wasn’t saying anything and appeared to know little beyond the rescue.

The worldwide intelligence community wasn’t buying it. There was much more to the story. The U.S., in particular, was furious. Why hadn’t it been told of the planned rescue, even if it was an emergency? In the old days, Israel would never have taken such steps without consulting the international powers.

On the face of it, the American citizens, Seattleites, Orion employees, and the Fields and Carson families were ecstatic. They didn’t ask for further explanation. They were just glad that their loved ones and citizens had been rescued.

The press event concluded with a statement that in the morning the Orion executives would be flown to Tel Aviv, where Glenn Carson would be transferred to the top trauma center there.

The cameras went dark, and the tension in the executive conference room onboard the Israeli carrier eased. Israeli officials at the podium shook hands and congratulated themselves. Officers approached Paul Fields and fawned over him, asking if there was anything they could do for him. He was offered a refreshment and chose coffee, strong and black. Fields was momentarily overwhelmed and uneasy at all the attention. He soon recovered and asked for a phone and a computer.

Commander Reichenfeld agreed to the phone and computer, and asked that the computer be set up at the back of the conference room. He wasn’t about to let Fields have a private computer. Whoever he communicated with was going to be the business of Israel. All phone conversations would be taped, and the computer would capture the network activity by history and content. Reichenfeld and his crew, of course, were not privy to
Prophecy.
For that reason, the commander had been warned that the Mossad would be keeping an eye on Fields’ computer activities, from afar. Naturally, the commander was curious about the process but valued his elevated position more, and therefore said nothing.

Paul Fields began a marathon of phone calls starting with his family. He assured them he would be fine and that his wife did not need to meet him in Israel. He would be home in the next few days. He did not have his passport with him and would be working with the U.S. embassy in Jerusalem to procure a replacement. His wife thought he was subdued and kinder than usual. For once, she was anxious to have him home.

He then called his head of security, Eric “Mickey” McDougall.

“Hello, Mickey, this is Paul.”

“Oh, thank God, Mr. Fields, Sir. You’re all right! I just saw the press conference. What would you like me to do?”

“Is the company plane back in the air?”

“Yes, Sir, it is. Standing by, awaiting orders.”

“Good. Please bring it to Tel Aviv to pick me up. Arrange for Mrs. Carson to travel with you. She will want to see her husband. I’m hoping that just hearing her voice will help him recover faster.”

“Anything else, Mr. Fields?”

“Please, Mickey, you always call me Paul.”

“I know, Sir. You’ve just been through a lot. We’ve all been so worried.”

“More than you know. But I want to be out of this fucking circus and back in Seattle as soon as possible.”

“Understandable, Paul, Sir.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes. Please patch me through to my office.”

“Okay.”

There was an awkward pause as Fields waited to be transferred to his executive administrator. But he wasn’t put on hold. Finally, he said, “Mickey, are you still there?”

Mickey blurted out, “Uh, yes. What about Kendall Radcliffe? What’s happened to her? Was she with you?”

Fields thought quickly and then answered carefully, fearful of unknown ears. “Yes, she was with us by happenstance. Carson and I ran into her at the hotel in DC. That’s how she came to be on our charter.”

It didn’t sound like he was going to offer anything further. Mickey just had to press for more. Too many people had inquired about her. His face was beet red as he whispered into the phone, “But why wasn’t she rescued when you were?”

“I don’t know, Mickey. We were about to take fire, and the helicopter just lifted off the rooftop.”

“Was she with you?”

Fields felt terrible. He hated admitting that Kendall was left behind while he was rescued. “Yes, she was behind me when we were loaded onto the helicopter. Troops came storming out of the building.”

“What happened to her? Is she still alive?”

“I don’t know, Mickey. I didn’t see her after that. Now will you patch me through?”

“Absolutely, Paul. Right away.”

Fields spoke with his executive admin for thirty minutes, assuring her that he was fine and that he would be home soon. He told her that Mickey would be bringing the plane to Tel Aviv and that hopefully Mrs. Carson would accompany the security detail. He asked her to get him a new cell phone and laptop and have the latter set up exactly like the old one. He requested that Daniel Blumfeld personally oversee the configuration. Since it was early morning in Seattle, Daniel would have time to drive to Seattle and get the laptop ready before the flight left later in the day.

Fields had to repeat everything twice, because his executive admin kept
interrupting him with sobs. She had written him off as dead, and couldn’t believe that the ornery, ruthless, sonofabitch had survived. She was happy, for her sake. She wondered how his wife had taken the news that he had survived. Finally, Fields outlined the emergency meetings he would need to conduct upon his return, starting with the board of directors and Orion executives. Once he knew his upcoming schedule better, he would have her start filling up his calendar.

The Orion CEO hung up and sat back to take his first breath. He felt satisfied that he had spoken with everyone he needed to for the moment. He looked around, and saw that the room was mostly empty. The furniture had been efficiently rearranged to its original configuration. His eyes traveled to the two men sitting at the nearby conference table. He locked eyes with Commander Reichenfeld. The latter quickly looked away.

“Commander?”

“Yes, Mr. Fields?”

“I’m tired, but I would like to use the computer. Can it be moved to my room?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Fields. I understand you’re tired. But the rooms are not equipped for computer hookup. The ship was configured that way on purpose, so the men would not be tempted to have personal computers in their rooms. You understand. We’d never get them out of their rooms. Any time you want, you can use the computers in the resource room.”

Fields frowned and nodded. And the commander did not bother to inform him there were rooms wired with network lines. Fields just wasn’t assigned one of those rooms, on purpose. He looked directly at the commander. “Any update on Kendall?”

Reichenfeld had the decency to look uncomfortable. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, no word.”

“From Rashid either?”

The commander shrugged, “Nothing.”

Fields requested to be taken back to his room. He was given something to help him sleep. He awoke sometime in the middle of the night trying to catch his breath. He had been dreaming that as the helicopter rose from the rooftop, Kendall had been shot in the back by the soldiers and then blown up by whoever bombed the AIDC building. He then lay there and replayed the rooftop events in his head.

He was puzzled, wondering if the helicopter he was on had bombed the building, and he just missed it in all the chaos? No, he was certain there was no gunfire or missiles shot from his helicopter. It was all they could do to maneuver vertically and head south for the Arabian Sea as fast as they could. But then who destroyed the building? He sat up and had a brief moment of terror, wondering
if Israel was going to cut Rashid loose. Kendall, by mere association, would once again be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Fields fervently wished he knew Kendall better. She had been very relaxed at the dinner at Shazeb’s palace. She and Rashid appeared to be playing a part. Fields had detected an underlying theme or plot to which both Kendall and Rashid seemed to have assigned roles. Looking back on the evening, one could even say that Kendall and Rashid had played both sons against each other in the presence of their father. But how could they have known the brothers would turn on each other, be killed, and the father would be forced to avenge his favorite son? They couldn’t possibly have known that. President Shazeb wasn’t even in the room when Saaqib shot Ahmad.

The Orion CEO fell back onto the bed into an exhausted sleep, woozy from analyzing the different scenarios in his head.

In the morning, Fields requested a visit with Glenn Carson. The CFO was awake and alert. He had a lot of questions about where he was and what had happened in the past weeks. Fields brought him up to speed in a non-specific way, saying that they had been rescued by the Israelis from the rooftop of a building in Afghanistan. Carson could not believe he had been unconscious for so long. Within an hour, Carson was overly stimulated and exhausted. Fields was asked to let him sleep. He went back to his room in much better spirits.