The Puppetmasters (42 page)

Mossad leader Benjamin Zimmerman was pacing his office as he watched the scene unfold over the satellite image. He saw the movement of Afghanistan
troops into the Band-e-Amir Lakes and visibly calmed down. He had thought for sure that idiot, General Omar, was going to lose track of Rashid and the girl. But fortunately, Rashid still had the satellite phone with him. Even though it was deactivated, the Mossad was still able to follow their path because of a built-in electronic tracking device. The Mossad didn’t always tell its young agents everything they needed to know … particularly when it involved spying on their own. So, the Mossad had been able to track Rashid from Kabul over the Shibar Pass to Bamiyan and then on to the Band-e-Amir Lakes.

When it looked like General Omar had lost the trail, the Mossad sent the hapless Afghan leader an anonymous, untraceable email, pointing the Afghan troops into the Band-e-Amir Lakes. From a look at the satellite view, the message had been received.

Now Zimmerman need only wait for confirmation through the media of the deaths, since they would never be allowed to survive more than an hour after capture. His blood still boiled at the thought that Rashid had probably taken Shazeb’s drug money. Yes, it would be satisfying to know when the two were dead. The
coupe de gras
would be that Afghanistan, and the rest of the world, would never know that it was Israel that had bombed the palace, the government building, and the farms and trucks on the northeastern roadway into Pakistan. The secret would die with Rashid and Kendall.

R
ASHID AWOKE EARLY TO AN
uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He unfastened the tent ties and scrambled out into the clear morning sun. The pristine, undisturbed lake waters lay before him, and yet he couldn’t enjoy them. He looked around for the source of his discomfort, and everything seemed normal. He walked over to the drying carp and it remained undisturbed from the night before. He saw a cloud of dust in the distance, toward the visitor area, and rummaged around for his binoculars.

Peering through the lens, he froze. Right in front of the little hotel and visitor center were ten military vehicles with men walking about readying themselves for the day.

Rashid flew into action. He ran over to the tent and knelt down. “Kendall, get up quick! The military’s here. Put on the blue robes with the head covering. Help me unload the rest of the jeep. I have to get rid of it now.”

Without a word, she willingly did as he said, stopping only long enough to find a large boulder to pee behind, and stuff a quick bite of dried fruit and nuts into her mouth. The jeep was unloaded in ten minutes. He made a fire for her and told her to sit next to it, with her back to the dusty road. Before he left, he handed her a stiff branch with coarse needles on it and instructed her to wipe away any signs of the jeep’s tire tracks.

He took off in the jeep away from their campsite, driving across the open terrain. He was very careful of the landmines that dotted the land. A large rise loomed ahead. He drove about a mile around to the back side of it and then put the jeep in low gear and climbed as far as he could up the steep slope. The jeep jostled and bucked over the dried weeds and loose rocks. He was able to go about a quarter of a mile up the side of the incline and finally stopped. He was now on the back side of the cliff from where Kendall and the lakes were.

He couldn’t afford to blow up the jeep now, as it would cause an explosion and attract attention. He shut the engine down and jumped out. After giving the jeep a once-over to make sure they had removed their belongings, he put the
vehicle in neutral and pushed it off the cliff face. It landed on the rock-strewn floor below with a huge crash of twisted metal, and sent up a dust cloud that quickly dispersed.

Rashid made his way down the steep hillside and surveyed the wreckage. He gathered up nearby branches and threw them onto the pieces of the twisted vehicle frame. Anyone venturing past would now think it had lain there for some time, maybe even years. One would need to get fairly close to even identify it as an old jeep. Because of the constant wars over the past forty years, old, rusted, broken-down jeeps were not an uncommon site. Rashid banked on that being the case.

As he headed back the way he came, he missed the bits of aluminum alloy and polymers scattered about that used to be his satellite phone, courtesy of the Mossad. It had been stowed far into the wheel well to escape the notice from any surprise inspection.

He continued on his way toward the campsite and used a scraggly branch to wipe away the faint tire tracks. One good dust storm would eliminate the tracks, but he didn’t want to take any chances. It took him longer to walk back, as he needed to be extra careful to avoid the landmines. Finally, he was within half a mile of the campsite when he saw the camel train off to the right behind a rise in the distance. He changed course and walked toward it.

In the meantime, ten of Omar’s troops headed to the far end of the lake where Rashid and Kendall’s campsite was, and ten worked their way from the visitor area. They planned to meet in the middle and keep in contact by radio transmission.

Kendall was terrified as the approaching jeeps made themselves heard over the rough, unpaved roadway. As she quickly scanned their campsite, her stomach lurched when she saw how scattered and messy their site was. A hasty, dusty, tarp had been haphazardly thrown over some of their more expensive items in an effort to hide their distinctive western or more modernized things. Making matters worse, she thought, was that she was in bare feet … not having had time to locate the
paizar
or flat shoes worn by Afghan women, which the female doctor Maysah Siddra had been so kind to provide her with.

The military men got out at the end of the roadway seventy-five feet from her and walked about, pointing and gesturing over the lake and land. They did not approach her or say anything to her. She held her breath, and a small Afghan Snow Finch landed on a nearby tree branch overlooking the lake. She focused on the little bird and recalled that Rashid had pointed it out the day before as being a species exclusive to Afghanistan. She noticed right away that it was making the sharp
tsi
alarm tone rather than the usual
zig-zig
sound, as Rashid had shown her. She thought, wryly, that was particularly fitting under the circumstances, but it didn’t do anything to assuage her immediate fears.

As the soldiers looked around their sloppy campsite, she soon realized they were regarding it with derision and contempt. They had chalked this family up to being poor, unfortunate souls who had little by way of possessions. They most likely deserved their lot in life because of the careless way they treated their belongings. One soldier made a loud comment and gestured toward Kendall sitting rigidly around the fire, her robes only just covering her bare feet. The others laughed and then walked to their vehicles and drove away to the next camp site.

What she didn’t realize was that the sloppiness of the campsite, coupled with her rigid lack of curiosity toward the soldiers, actually saved her. They were so disgusted at the careless scene, they wanted to be away from it lest they too succumbed to a dull and poverty-stricken life, with next-to-nothing to their names. As they drove away, they were glad of their own lives and the meager possessions they had. In their eyes, at least they had something by way of a small house or a few children.

Rashid had made his way to the camel train and saw that the people were a large, extended, closely knit family of
Kuchi
nomads who had made the Band-e-Amir Lakes their home for a few weeks. Their sheep, goats, and camels were grazing around the nearby slopes under the watchful eyes of the
Kuchi
tribes’ young men. Sauntering up, he approached an elder overseeing a line of kneeling Arabian
dromedary,
or single-humped camels, contentedly chewing their cud in the mid-morning sun.

The older man nodded and voiced a
Pashtun
greeting. He quickly sized up a very dirty and tired—and slightly rank—Rashid as most likely a military deserter. He had a look of strength and vigor, and was obviously well-fed. He carried himself like a leader and seemed to be independent and strong-willed. The elder was curious what the young man wanted, and being no fan of the late President Shazeb or the military, had no bone to pick with him,
per se.

Rashid pointed towards the camels and inquired about purchasing an older—maybe twenty-five-year-old—camel. The
Kuchi
elder nodded and was pleased with his first impression. This poor young man didn’t have much money and could not afford one of the prized younger camels.

The wizened man figured he wouldn’t get much
Afghani
from this guy. He shrewdly moved over to a thirty-five-year old camel that looked as if it wouldn’t last the day, and indicated he would sell this one for a very fair price. Rashid eyed the soft, small hump and thinning quarters and asked the wrinkled man to have it stand. The elder complied. The young man quickly realized the camel’s breast pad, which would bear the most weight, was weak and the girth unsteady. Rashid felt a flash of anger at the insult at being offered such a broken-down animal. But he held his annoyance in check and vehemently shook his head.

They moved on to an average but sturdy-looking male camel. “This camel’s name is Babar. He is a younger, strong camel. I will sell him to you for a quarter
million
Afghani.”
The old guy doubted the younger man even had that much
Afghani.

Rashid was pleasantly surprised, but knew that was all he had on him … at this very moment. He feigned shock. “But that’s all I have. I need to buy rope and padding.”

The old man nodded, “And you also need a saddle and permanganate for any wounds.”

Rashid’s face fell, as he realized he may just have to buy the old rickety camel. But the shriveled old man took pity at the crestfallen look on Rashid’s face, and agreed to the purchase price of a quarter million
Afghani
or approximately $5,000, which would include two ropes, three old pads, and the medicine he would need, along with surgical scissors and a knife.

Since Rashid needed a saddle, the older man helped him construct a crude but functional four-stick camel saddle, the kind often used in Kenya and Somalia. After the three pads were placed over Babar’s back, two pairs of sticks were crossed over the withers on one end and the breast plate on the other. The sticks were held into place with a rope that passed under Babar’s belly. Now, Rashid would be able to sling his two large water skins on either side of the animal. The saddle would also help balance the load.

Rashid dug
Afghani
out his pockets. It was almost comical the way
Afghani
were popping out of every nook and cranny on Rashid’s clothing. It also gave the impression this was all the money he had in the world. The old man went away satisfied but feeling slightly guilty that he had just taken all of the younger man’s
Afghani.

An hour later, Kendall looked up to see Rashid, dressed in the same traditional nomadic robes with a
Kufi
white hat perched on his head, leading a camel carefully over the rocky landscape. Using a stick to control the camel, Rashid looked comfortable maneuvering the animal. Kendall laughed when she was told its name was “Babar.”

They quickly loaded all of their supplies and headed out in the same direction of the jeep remains. Kendall filled Rashid in on the soldiers’ coming around. He was nervous, and felt they would be back at the campsite if anyone mentioned that a jeep had been parked there for the past couple of days.

As they walked somewhat close to the remnants of the jeep, Rashid indicated the heap of metal off to the right. Kendall could tell he was struggling with having to part with the vehicle. It had been with him for over ten years and, just like that, he had smashed it to pieces. He averted his eyes and trained them on their route up into the Hindu Kush Mountains.

They walked for two hours and were finally far enough away that Rashid felt they could stop for a break and a decent meal. They stopped near a stream
and washed the dirt and grime from their hands and faces. Babar began to drink an enormous amount of water. Kendall fretted. “He’s going to get sick! He’s drinking too much at a time.”

Rashid laughed. “He’s fine! Camels can drink a hundred and fifty liters, or about thirty-nine gallons of water at a time.”

“My God! We’d better stay close to water.”

“It doesn’t work that way. He’s just storing it. He doesn’t really sweat. When he exhales, the vapor is reabsorbed into his body, conserving water.”

Kendall was feeling cranky. “Whatever! I’m starved! What are we going to eat?”

Rashid looked around and quickly identified some wild, bleached rhubarb, mulberries, and mushrooms. He spied a nearby
camelthorn
bush. He quickly and expertly scraped the dried, crunchy sap. When he offered Kendall some, she was a little hesitant. “What is it?”

He grinned. “It’s from the Old Testament. It’s called
Hedysarum
or manna.”

She nodded and took a bite. It was sweet and tasted of nuts and brown sugar with a tinge of honey and maple syrup. She thought it was delicious and helped collect more to store in one of the few containers they had. As they gathered up their things to forge on for another two hours before making camp for the night, Kendall looked over to see Rashid struggling to get Babar to kneel. The camel did not want to kneel and was prancing about.

Even Kendall understood the situation. With hands on hips, she declared, “Rashid, I think he has to pee.”

Rashid let go of Babar’s rope and let him wander a few feet away. Back legs spread, the camel began to pee. Kendall was shocked. “Oh my God! It’s as thick as syrup! That’s disgusting!”

After a minute, when the animal was still peeing, Rashid laughed, “Yeah, and I don’t think he’s done yet. Pay attention. I think you’ll learn something.” They let the camel walk around and then it produced a good-sized hill of dung. Rashid got one of his many cloth bags out and walked over to the dung, picking up each individual piece. He looked at the horror on Kendall’s face and laughed.