QUETTA
Christopher turned to Alexandra several paces behind him and whispered, "No questions until we get up the hill. Everyone here speaks Pashto or one of the other tribal languages, so try not to speak and keep two or three paces behind me."
"Yes, master."
Christopher grinned at Alexandra's tone as he replied. "Ah! The sweet dulcet tones of submission."
"You wish!" was her hissed response.
"Put this on." Christopher turned and stepped closer to Alexandra so that passersby could not observe his action.
Alexandra stared at the wedding ring. "I didn't know Pashtun women wore wedding rings."
"They're not all peasants—barefoot, illiterate and pregnant. Especially those in the area we're heading to. Some, not all, wear them. Just do it!" Christopher turned and cleared a pathway through the bazaar crowd.
Alexandra slipped the ring on and grabbed the back of Christopher's scarf as he barreled his way through the crowd. From the stalls, fruit and nut merchants hawked their wares to the nighttime market crowd.
Christopher paused at a junction in the vegetable merchants' section as he stepped aside to allow a donkey cart to pass in the narrow passageway. The donkey registered its protests with a loud series of brays that reverberated through the stalls.
Startled by the unexpected noise, Alexandra moved closer to Christopher's back as the animal urinated causing several members of the crowd to brush against her. An unknown hand squeezed her left buttock cheek causing her to cling closer to Christopher.
"OooH!"
"Come to my left side," Christopher whispered. "Try to keep your hand in front of you so that they don't feel your MP5."
Alexandra readily complied as they move higher on the escarpment.
Forty-five minutes later, they slowed down as they reached a higher, less-crowded section. Christopher slogged along the paved road until they were on the outskirts of the city. He paused to orient himself before plunging off the road into a thicket.
"Why aren't you using GPS?" Alexandra hissed from behind him as she felt the brambles tugging at her clothes.
"Ahh, you are a product of your training, Alex. You should join the regular army or the Americans. What happens when your GPS gets lost or is broken?" His teeth flashed in the moonlight. "The day the Chinese bang those GPS satellites out of the sky, a lot of our weapons and personnel are going to be useless. I trust my personal systems." He tapped his brain to illustrate his point.
**
Two hour later later, Christopher spread a ground sheet and gestured for Alexandra to join him next to a boulder sheltered by several thickets.
"Why have we stopped?" Alexandra glanced around at the surrounding area. "We're in the middle of nowhere."
"Precisely. Just you and me." Christopher carefully extracted a pouch from his pack. "Get closer to me, we have to snuggle together." He continued to unpack the pouch's silvery contents unaware of the withering, uncooperative glare he was receiving from his partner.
"Closer," he mumbled as he spread the composite silver material. On the outside, a dark green/tan camouflaged pattern blended in with the surroundings.
"I will not!"
Startled, Christopher turned to study Alexandra's face in the moonlight. "What's the matter? I'm not trying to trying to jump your bones, Inspector. And I only have a faint body odor that most women find stimulating." He tried to stifle the grin as he excavated a thin layer of the gritty soil.
"What are we doing here?"
"The Field Commander would like to advise the Mission Commander that collectively they will be conducting a joint reconnaissance exercise on the site over there. We are spreading this reflective blanket in order to stay warm and to ensure that we do not display an infrared signature to any drones, satellites or detection equipment in that base." Christopher finished securing the reflective gear over the ground sheet. Finally, he stopped and began removing his scarf and field jacket.
"What are you doing?" Alexandra stared as Christopher scooped out additional dirt for his buttocks as he tested the field pit using his jacket as a pillow.
"Getting comfortable. We're going to be four hours in the same position so you'd better be comfortable. Would you like me to scoop some out for your hips?"
"What!? What do you mean? Are you insinuating that I have big hips?"
Recognizing the storm clouds in her voice, Christopher scooped out her position without further comment.
"Do you?"
"Do I what?" He asked in the most innocent tone he could muster.
"You think I have big hips, don't you? Well I'm not one of your svelte Sloane Ranger type ..." She stopped as she recognized she had betrayed Lady Catherine's confidence. "Sorry..."
"Inspector, I wouldn't worry about the mention of Jo-Anne Scarborough. When you are in the military and assigned to secure operations, you recognize your personal life is open to anyone's interpretation." He paused as he spread his scarf on the soil. "That was eighteen years ago and if you would like to know, I'm half Latino. I like women with solid hips and legs. Slide in here so I can check that I have everything covered."
"Look, I'm sorry about that crack about a Sloane Ranger. It's been a long day..."
Christopher pulled back the camouflaged cover. "Get in, Alex. Don't worry about my personal preferences. We're not likely to meet after this mission and I'm sure you'll be glad of that. Right now, I have to concentrate on the safety of two little girls and their parents." He inspected the cover and pulled several broken branches to break up the silhouette of their cover. "The temperature is going to radically drop in the next hour. We need to warm that shelter up with our body heat."
**
An hour later, Alexandra attempted to control her shivering in the sheltered snug.
"What are you wearing under that robe?"
"None of your business, Colonel."
Christopher moved closer and placed an arm with his jacket over Alexandra. "Don't do that! You'll freeze."
"For once in your life, will you stop arguing? Come closer. I'm not going to molest you. By the way, Afghan women usually wear a thick woolen dress and long johns under those coats."
"And how do you know I'm not wearing those items?"
Christopher wisely kept his mouth shut.
**
An hour later, Alexandra admitted to herself that his body was an excellent heat source as the ambient night sounds decreased in volume.
BASRA, IRAQ
Mr. Aries approached Hassim, the Palestinian butler, as he swayed from the ceiling by double restraints on both his wrists.
"Let me explain what is about to happen to you and why we are doing it." He donned a rubber apron and slipped into a pair of rubber boots. From the workbench, he selected two large rubber gauntlets and pulled them on until they reached almost to his elbows.
"We will make this very painful for you, but we will not injure your mouth or your fingers since we need both of them so you can communicate with your masters on our behalf." He selected a set of goggles from the workbench. "This is to stop your blood, saliva and other effluents affecting my eyes. I like to concentrate when I do my work."
The prisoner squirmed as Aries approached. "Do you have a preference in which methods I use? Would you like the American methods? Water boarding, electrical shock or chemical inducements? Or would you prefer our more traditional methods?"
The gagged prisoner moaned as Aries selected the first instrument he would employ to torture him.
YOU ARE READING
The Shaddad Conspiracy
Adventure“Your murder victim was not an innocent, naive woman. She was on our terrorist watch list. The fact that she escaped from Basra and lived a normal life in London buggers belief, but she was planted here by a foreign government to wreck the Taliban p...
