The Puppetmasters (40 page)

“They are going to carry our goods as we walk to Mazar-e-Sharif. We’re going to travel like nomads. From there, we’ll be able to use an Internet café. We’ll be close to the Uzbekistan border and should be able to get out of Afghanistan.”

Kendall was stunned. “How? I don’t have a passport.”

“I don’t know, yet. But we’ll figure it out when we get there.”

She was silent for a moment and then continued with her grilling. “How long will it take us to walk to Mazar-e-Sharif?”

“I figure about ten days, maybe longer. It’s about 245 kilometers or 152 miles. It’s a little further than when we went from Kabul to Bamiyan. It will be slow going, because we’re going to walk over the mountain ridges and the alpine meadows. We can’t stay on the main roads. It’s too dangerous. Didn’t you see on the television yesterday what General Omar was saying about us?”

“Yes, but why must we make it so hard on ourselves? Can’t we just drive to Mazar-e-Sharif?”

“No way! There’s one main highway, and there’ll be police checkpoints along the way.”

She looked miserable, as if he had asked the impossible. He grabbed her arm, trying to understand her reluctance. “What’s the problem, Kendall? It’s practically like going on a camping trip. Don’t you like to camp?”

Her eyes were blazing. “You know it’s way different than traditional camping—which, by the way, I detest. It’s one thing to go one night without a shower. But anything more than that, and I’m miserable. Let’s not even talk about the landmines.”

“It’s not going to be that difficult. We’ll follow the Balkh River pretty much all the way to Mazar-e-Sharif. You’ll have fresh water to drink and bathe in every day.”

“But what will we eat?”

“We’ve got some dried food with us. And we’ll eat wildlife along the way, maybe fish in a few streams or the river. Kendall, I can take care of myself and you. Don’t you trust me?”

She nodded. “Yes, but ….“ Her voice trailed off. She sighed at the prospect. “What are we going to do with the jeep?”

“It’s a four-wheel drive, and we’re going to take it as far as we can over the land and into the hills, and then we’re going to blow it up.” He loved that jeep, and would find it painful to destroy. It was kind of like him—rugged but looking a little worse for wear. But they had no choice. If they sold it—probably to the camel merchant in a trade—General Omar’s men would know how they were traveling.

She looked around them at the steep cliffs and narrow valley heading into the mountains. “I don’t think we’ll be able to take it far.”

“You’re probably right, and I didn’t expect to. I just want to get it off the beaten path, so we can get rid of it with as little notice as possible.”

“What about the landmines? They seem to be everywhere.”

“They are. We’ll just be careful and always on alert. The higher and deeper we get into the Hindu Kush mountains and the further from the main roads, the safer we’ll be.”

Kendall looked around at all their belongings. “Do you think we can take everything?”

“Absolutely! A camel can carry about three hundred pounds. I think we have about one hundred and fifty, so we don’t have to buy a young, sturdy camel.”

“Oh, great! And what if we get a lemon?”

Rashid looked at her like she’d lost her mind. She laughed and waved at him. “Never mind! It’s just my perverse sense of humor. I’m thinking about what
if you were buying a used car, and it was not sound. It might break down, and we’d be stranded.”

He got the joke. “Well, I’m not planning on purchasing a ‘lemon,’ as you say. I’ve watched these types of purchases before. I know not to purchase a plain or sand-bred camel. It needs to be used to walking on rocks.”

“What else, Mr. Camel Expert?”

He grinned. “You can tell the camel’s condition by the firmness and size of the hump, the fullness of its quarters, and how solid its neck is. A camel’s strength is in its forelegs. Its quarters are actually fairly weak. The breast pad lies under the withers, or shoulders. That’s where it would carry its load.”

“I know something about camels.”

Rashid laughed, “Okay. Dazzle me with your knowledge.”

She proudly proclaimed, “Camels store water in their humps.”

He hated to burst her bubble, but corrected her. “No, Kendall. That’s not right.”

She looked shocked. “Really?”

“Sorry, but camels store fat in their humps, not water. Sometimes the hump leans over. That means the camel hasn’t eaten in quite a while.”

She shook her head in wonderment. “That makes absolutely no sense. Why would fat be stored in the humps?”

“It reduces the need to insulate its body. They can withstand a wide range in temperatures. This helps the camel survive in hot and cold climates. It’s also why they can go so long without drinking.”

“Okay, you win. But where are we going to find a camel?”

“You don’t notice much around you, do you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t you see the camel train or group of nomads camped behind the huge outcrop that has those cave formations at the bottom?”

“No. I was too busy looking at the lakes. I can’t get enough of that gorgeous blue water, and the scary steep cliff walls that drop right into the water.”

“That’s easy to understand. There are very few places on earth that have lakes this color and deep. It’s the mineral content, did you know that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

He felt the conversation after dinner had gone well. She now knew the plan, and like it or not, was ready to embark on the next stage of their journey. They cleaned up their few dinner implements and decided to go to bed early. Rashid wanted to get a head start on the day. He hoped the drying carp would not attract any wild animals to their site.

He lay on his bedroll and wondered what he looked like. He had not shaved in days, and his beard was coming in thick and dark. He imagined he was going to blend in nicely with the nomadic men. He made a mental note to warn Kendall in the morning to wear the full blue
burqa
robe still worn by many of the Afghan women in the north. He was so glad that Jangi’s wife had pressed one on them before they left.

As he began to drift off to sleep he was completely unaware of the convoy of military vehicles slowly proceeding into the Band-e-Amir Lake area.

A
FTER AN EXTRA DAY IN
Tel Aviv to secure the necessary approvals and acquire the proper documentation, the Orion plane was readied for the journey back to Seattle. It would make one stopover for refueling, and then land in Seattle early evening. The flight was uneventful, except for the eclectic mix of passengers. There had never been such a diverse group of people on the Orion plane before. The most amazing part was that it all seemed so normal now for Paul Fields and Glenn Carson. They couldn’t have cared less who was on board the return flight. They were so relieved to be free of their Afghanistan adventure and to be heading back to the U.S., that flexibility had somehow become the norm for them.

Fields was wondering if he would ever be able to bark orders and make demands again. He had personally experienced the effects of too much power placed in one man’s hands. The fact that Mujtaba Shazeb came to rule because of a power grab only added to the tyrannical nature of his rule.

Once the flight passed into U.S. airspace, the Orion executives let out a sigh of relief. They were safe now. The plane’s initial leg of the journey took it to Andrews Air Force Base in Washington, DC, where the Immigration and Customs Enforcement, or ICE, officer, FBI agents, and sour-faced State Department official took Maysah Siddra off the plane. The plan was to speak with her for a couple more days in DC, until all necessary paperwork, approvals, and living details were attended to before her final move to Seattle.

Two mysterious and grim-faced officials came on board during the refueling at Andrews Air Force Base. They urged Fields and Carson to disembark for additional questioning in DC. The Orion executives flatly declined the “invitation” and in no uncertain terms made their wishes known. They were going back to Seattle to be re-united with their families. If the government wished to speak with them further, they would happily make themselves available in Seattle. The men had figured on that response all along. But now they had secured the continued cooperation of the executives and should have easy access to them in the days to come.

After a quick check on Carson’s well-being, and his insistence that he was fine and they should depart, the plane was back in the air heading due west. Mickey looked around. The only ones left on board were Fields, Carson and his wife, the plane’s crew, and the Orion security team. They landed to much fanfare at Boeing field, where the homecoming had been big news all day. Carson was visibly worn out and was quickly whisked away by his wife and a security detail.

Fields stayed ten minutes longer to give a general statement and answer a few questions from the press. He promised the media that he would make himself available for a lengthy interview once he had settled into his old routine. He was impatient to see his wife and kids and opted for one of the company helicopters, which was standing by to deliver him to his secure compound.
Thank God for Mickey,
he thought.
That man can make anything happen.
After only five minutes, the helicopter touched down on the rooftop pad of his private complex. He had a brief moment of fear when his mind took him back to the rescue off the rooftop of the AIDC building in Afghanistan.

As the rotor blades slowed to a stop, the rooftop door opened, and his three children burst out and sprinted towards their father. He ran forward and sank to his knees, so he could gather up all of them in one big bear hug. They squealed with delight and alternately asked him if he was okay and told him how much they had missed him. He knew the stress on them had been tremendous. Each day of his captivity, they had taken their cues from their mother’s demeanor, and had watched her alternate from affected cheerfulness and denial to fear and despair. When they came down for breakfast a few days ago to find their mother humming to the beat of a fast-paced Jamaican song, they brightened right up. After telling them the good news of their father’s rescue, she allowed them a day off from chores and summer studies to celebrate their father’s release. When he sauntered into the brightly-lit kitchen where his wife was overseeing the staff in the preparation of the evening meal, he thought she had never looked more appealing. She was dressed in a casual but elegant manner, with taupe-colored slacks and a cream-colored silk blouse. The fine gold jewelry bracelet and matching necklace were chic and understated. The couple hugged for five minutes, neither wanting to let go. Fields couldn’t get enough of the feel of her soft body against his. He didn’t want to release her as he continued to stroke her long blonde hair. He reveled in the oh-so-familiar, sensual perfume and scent of her freshly washed hair. He looked at her in a new way. In the past, he had never appreciated her like he did in this instance. He vowed that he would never take her for granted again.

That night, sitting around the formal dining room table overlooking Lake Washington was memorable. It was all so civilized, comfortable, and ordinary. He loved every minute of it. There was no reason to fear anything. He couldn’t even remember the meal, because he was too aware of the happy, festive mood of the whole household, and the normalcy of being surrounded by his family
and the things that meant the most to him. The children beamed at the joyous occasion and had a hard time getting to sleep that night. Sometime in the middle of the night, Fields woke up to find his six year old on his side of the bed … staring intently at him. He reached his arm out and stroked the little chin.

“What’s wrong, buddy, can’t sleep?”

The child solemnly declared that he just wanted to make sure his father hadn’t gone away again. The CEO wanted to cry at the outrageous emotional upheaval that had been thrust upon his family through no fault of theirs. He scooped up the toe-headed youngster and nestled him next to his chest. He reached behind him for his wife, and she rolled over to cuddle him. It had been a long time since he had felt secure in the loving arms of his family.

Paul Fields jumped out of bed the next morning at the crack of dawn and announced that he was going into the office. His wife was disappointed but not surprised. The family had been seeing a grief counselor while he was gone, and this was something the wife had been warned about. Nevertheless, she made one attempt to get him to stay home.

“But Honey, we haven’t had any time with you. We want to spend the day with you. We want you all to ourselves.”

He climbed over his sleeping son and got back into bed and kissed the top of her tousled head. “And I would like nothing more than to stay at home with all of you. But I need to go over some emails and talk to my data security guru.”

“Oh, you mean Daniel.”

“Very good! You met him at the office Christmas Party. I can’t believe you remember him.”

“Well, I met him this year … six months ago. He was so unusual that I could hardly forget him.”