American Blood: A Vampire's Story (22 page)

“How is this possible?”

“It has been arranged with Husaam . . . now be silent and do not tell the others.”

“I shall keep this secret between us.”

“You are a wise sister,” Calida said. “Perhaps I’ll be able to help you and all the sisters of the
tabar
in the days to come.”

“I do not understand.”

“But you shall.”   

R
yan studied the tracker. “She must have stopped . . . yeah, we’re slowly getting closer now.”

“That’s the compound.” Sergeant Bob pointed down into the blackness where several fires dotted the valley floor. “I think if we stay up along the western slope we can skirt it without being seen.”

“Nine kilometers is a long way with all of these rocks and crevices,” Ryan said. “At this rate it’ll take us until the sun comes up to get there.”

“It’s 0130 hours,” Sergeant Bob said. “Sunrise will be at 0612 . . . it’ll be close, but she’s no longer in the valley. They must have stopped on the plain that the valley opens onto.”

As the three men slowly made their way toward the valley’s southern end, Ryan lagged behind at times to get a position check and a few seconds of rest. The two rangers would stop, allow him to catch up, and then continue. Ryan checked their progress. They were averaging a gain of one kilometer toward Calida’s location every thirty minutes.

Ryan started moving again, but he had only taken three steps when he felt a now familiar presence within his mind.

Why are you so far away?

“Don’t you say hello first?”

I have gone before the Amir . . . and I have been chosen.

Ryan’s jaw dropped. “Where are you now?”

The two rangers stopped, turned around, and looked at Ryan.

I am in one of his tents past the end of the valley.

“We’re coming to you but it’ll take until dawn.”

Things are moving fast . . . maybe too fast . . . he is here.

“The
Amir
? He’s with you in the tent?”

No, dummy, the target . . . your terrorist . . . the Sheikh is here. He and the Amir will be traveling to Quetta to buy weapons.

“Christ!”

“Keep your damn voice down,” Sergeant Bob said in an angry whisper. “There could be a hidden cave with guards anywhere.”

“Sorry.”

Why?

“I wasn’t talking to you . . . so where is he?”

The Amir has placed three large tents within the moon shadow of a giant rock. The Sheikh is in a cave nearby, but I don’t know where. The Amir’s mind is full of caves.

“I’m sure, so what will you do?”

The Amir will be going to the safety of this cave after the Sardar leaves. I can now locate him . . . do you understand?

I—I understand. So what are you doing right now?”

I am making bread with my sisters.

“No, I mean how will you be able to get to him?”

It will be difficult. There are many men, all with guns.

Ryan paused and took a deep breath. “Have you killed anyone?”

Haven’t your soldier friends already killed two so far tonight?

“That’s different . . . all right, no it’s not . . . but are you safe?”

Why are you worried about that?

“You know why . . . don’t you?”

Those feeling are your own.

“How can I be sure?”

That’s up to you.

“And what are your feelings . . . for me?”

You already know . . . so why ask?

Somewhere deep inside him a hollow and helpless feeling began to build. “Just stay safe . . . we will get to you . . . I promise.”

I must let go . . . men have entered—

“What’s happening?” Ryan asked, and he waited for a long moment; there was no answer. “Damn it, she broke contact.”

“Mister, that was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” Squalls said. “You do that back at the base and the MPs will put you to sleep and you’ll wake up in a padded cell.”

“I’m kind of new at having a vampire in my mind.” Ryan made no effort to hide his frustration.

“Do you have to talk out loud while she’s in your head?”

Ryan shrugged. “Probably not . . . it’s just that I actually
hear
the sound of her voice as if she was standing in front of me. It takes getting use to.”

“Are you going to let us in on what she said?” Sergeant Bob asked, impatiently.

“Let’s keep moving,” Ryan said, and as they scrambled up and down jagged rocks and folds in the terrain, he repeated Calida’s side of the conversation.

“We’ve had intel that he comes down to Quetta to buy arms,” Sergeant Bob said. “But I don’t know, maybe I should call this in. We could have several hundred airborne in the area by noon tomorrow.”

Ryan grunted. “Haven’t you guys been trying it that way since coming over here?”

“It’s not us on the ground screwing it up . . . the higher up the decision is made the more cluster-fucked the mission becomes.”

“Amen.”

Ryan looked over at Squalls. “That’s my point.”

Sergeant Bob was quiet for a moment as they clambered over a formation of granite that resembled the bony knuckles of a giant hand. “Okay Ryan, let’s give her a chance . . . no need to piss these guys off and make them start shooting at everything.”

“So you’re not going to inform your commander’s that he’s here?”

“Not yet . . . let’s see how things go by daybreak.”

Ryan nodded and made another check on their progress with the tracker. Something was wrong.

“Hold up.”

The two rangers looked back and stopped.

Ryan reset the tracker’s electronics and waited for the unit to power up again. After five seconds the screen came back on with the same results.

Calida’s signal was gone.

S
iri opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but her arms and legs were snugly strapped down on the hospital bed. She turned her head toward the window and was rewarded with a sharp pain along the right side of her neck just below the angle of her lower jaw.

“Good to see you are finally awake,” a voice said.

Siri let the pain fade and slowly inched her head toward the voice. “Why am I here?” she managed to say, and her throat felt raw as if she had swallowed a crumpled ball of coarse sandpaper.

“Ooh yes, that is a proper question, and so I must give you a proper answer.”

“What have you done to me?”

“Let us take one question at time. You are presently in the clinic’s post surgery recovery room. You have been in an induced sleep since your operation two days ago.”

“Operation?” Siri again tried to move her arms. “Something has been done to my neck . . . why?”

“Well, we considered implanting it within your skull, but the agency’s staff surgeons advised that unlike Agent Villena who possesses such extraordinary recuperative abilities, such a procedure might kill you, or render you with brain damage.”

“Implant . . . implanting what?”

“An alternate location was suggested to avoid causing injury to your mind. And so here we are.”

Siri squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oh, come now, Doctor Lei. Tears? You have been permitted to live. Please stop with this wasteful self pity.”

“I haven’t deserved this . . . you’re a monster.”

“Much better. In times such as this anger can be a useful tool.”

“I have a right to know what you’ve done to me.”

“You have no right to anything but what I choose. Haven’t I made this clear enough?”

Siri swallowed, but the effort only made it halfway due to her dry throat. “—Please tell me.”

“Now that wasn’t too difficult—being polite. What has been done to you is the implantation of a small explosive charge between you jugular vein and carotid artery. The explosive shall remain in its present state as long as you cooperate fully with my wishes.”

“This is about . . . it’s about the search for the stone.”

“Precisely my good Doctor. You are going to discover the location of this remarkable object.”

Siri squirmed beneath the straps. “Where are Calida—Ryan?”

“No need to get excited . . . they are both still performing their mission. And by coincidence I received an update just before coming over here to see how your recovery is going.”

“Are they unharmed?” Siri stopped struggling.

“So far, but it is a dangerous place. Yet agent Villena has apparently infiltrated the
Sardar’s
tribe and taken the place of his daughter.”

“And Ryan?”

“To be honest, the mountains of Pakistan are a sore trial for a man who spends most of his waking hours in a laboratory.”

Siri was quiet for a moment as she tried to absorb her situation. What had been done to her was beyond anything she could have even remotely considered as a possibility in her life. The Director was entirely outside those conventional reference points she depended on to bring reason to her world.

“So where do I go from this hospital bed?”

A cloud of pipe smoke lazily passed over Siri’s face. Accepted rules of decency didn’t apply to this evil man.

“You shall be up on your feet tomorrow and as soon as medical clearance is given I expect you to resume your research into the location of the stone.”

“That simple?”

“It is only as simple as you allow. If you deviate, or make any attempt to subvert or misdirect our efforts your neck will immediately explode. Your fate is in your hands. Think of yourself as your own executioner.”

“And what happens to me if I am unable to locate this stone for you?” The panic in Siri’s voice rose. “What if it is now gone?”

“That would be disappointing.”

“But—but it’s a possibility.”

“Yes, yes, that is true. We’ll cross that road together if such is the case. But believe me when I tell you that it’s in your best interests to find the stone.”

“Or you’ll kill me?”

“If you cannot find it your usefulness will be at an end.”

“Isn’t that also true if I do find it? What use would I be to you then?”

“Now don’t fret about such things. Find comfort in knowing that you still have some worth if you perform your job as I expect.”

“I don’t find comfort in anything from you.” Siri took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. She had been trapped in an impossible circle; they all had.

“I expect you to be on your feet tomorrow. Professor Balken has an interesting theory about the stone’s origin. This might help you in your efforts to locate the caves.”

“You want my recovery to go well?”

“Of course my dear Doctor Lei.”

“Then you need to leave.”

“I have already stayed here longer than I intended. I’ll instruct the medical staff to remove your straps. I’m sure you won’t be going anywhere.”

Siri closed her eyes and listened as the Director got up out of a chair, and accompanied by the soft clicks of his cane, left the room.

“None but a noble man treats women in an honorable manner. And none but an ignoble treats women disgracefully.”

—
Mohammed
, the Prophet

A
fter the
Sardar
bid farewell to the
Amir
the chosen daughters had been ordered to make bread. Two hours before sunrise, as they finished with the dough, three armed Taliban warriors entered their tent. They grabbed Calida and Nafisa.

“The
Amir
has requested two of you,” one of the guards said.

“You . . . .” The other guard pointed to the daughter being left behind. “You shall bake the bread.”

Calida sensed something was wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed as they were led away from the tents toward the base of the large granite rock formation that hung over their heads.

Calida searched for the
Amir
and felt his presence, although faint, coming from the rock. In a few more hours, her messengers would multiply and her link with the
Amir
would grow stronger. As they came to the rock’s base, the guards commanded them to enter a small hole that appeared to have been chiseled into the rock. Nafisa nervously whispered as she passed into the dark opening but Calida ignored her.

Once they entered the cave, the ceiling rose high enough so that even the guards could fully stand. The cave had an odor of human sweat mixed with the acrid scent of gunpowder. A thick electric cable had been secured to the cave’s left wall from which widely spaced lights cast a soft yellow glow.

The women were led deeper into the cave and after several twists, the passage opened into a chamber. Calida looked down at the chamber’s floor and noticed a small pit of red-hot coals had been prepared along the back wall. Thin wisps of white and gray smoke wafted up from the coals and into an open shaft that led to the outside somewhere above their heads.

Also on the floor sitting atop large yellow cushions was the
Amir
and another man with a simple white turban and a well-worn green army jacket. On the floor by his right hand was a wooden cane and lying across his lap was an AK-47.

Standing along the walls were five men with guns, but only two of them wore the traditional garb of the Taliban. The other three had different colored turbans and their eyes were more weathered and fierce.

“Sit down and show us your faces,” the
Amir
ordered.

Calida removed her veil and coyly looked at the
Amir’s
companion. He looked frail, but his eyes had a piercing quality and his long beard resembled used steel wool.

“These are two of the women I spoke about my Sheikh,” the
Amir
said. “The very young one is Nafisa, and the other is Amina.”

The man with the white turban looked at Calida but never smiled. “These
Sardars
have many daughters to give away.” His voice was soft and pitched even higher than the
Amir’s
. “You Pashtuns too easily give away your women.”

“Do you know the old Pashtun saying,
Khazi la koor day ya Goorfor?
” the
Amir
asked.

The
Amir
and the two Taliban broke into laughter.

The Sheikh gave a disinterested sigh and tapped his fingers on his rifle. “I have heard this
Amir
,” he replied. “A woman has two places . . .  either at home or in the grave. So which shall it be for these two?

“I suspect it shall be both,” the
Amir
replied, and he laughed again. The Sheikh maintained the same emotionless expression.

Calida listened as the two men exchanged small talk in front of her as if she and Nafisa were nothing more than two rocks on the ground.

“But will the Sheikh agree that they are unusually beautiful?”

“In the eyes of Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, all women are beautiful.”

“What about your eyes?”

The Sheikh smiled for the first time. “My eyes see only His will.”

“And which shall you choose to serve you?”

The Sheikh turned back toward Calida. “This one . . . very beautiful, but her eyes are not like the other. There is a secret hidden behind her stare that only Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, can know.”

“Is this true?” the
Amir
asked.

Calida reached into the
Amir
. “I am only a woman of my
tabar
. “I have no secrets.”

The
Amir
blinked his right eye. “See, she is a simple Pashtana. She would make a good choice.”

“Yet her name is very sacred, not the name of a servant.”

“She has more knowledge, Sheikh, and would provide the better service.”

“Yet . . . I shall take the other.” The Sheikh fondled his gun some more. “I see nothing hidden behind her eyes.”

“But—”

“By the grace of Allah, Praise and Glory be to Him, you have offered the hospitality of choice. Why do you now ask me to choose by your wish?”

Calida withdrew. She had pushed too hard.

The
Amir
flinched as if startled and then began to scratch his vacant socket. “The choice is yours, Sheikh.” The
Amir
looked over to one of his men. “Take them to the women’s quarters. And you, Amina, shall help your sister bathe.”

The two women were led out of the chamber, through a maze of narrow passages, and finally ordered down a ladder into the women’s quarters: a bowl shaped pit. A single light hung down into the deep depression in the rock. The ladder was the only way to enter or leave.

“There is water in the wooden basin,” the guard said. Nafisa began to sob while Calida looked around at their prison. There was a large wooden basin with water sitting on the floor. There were also some cushions and a small pile of blankets.

“What—what shall I do?”

“Bathe,” Calida replied. “You must be strong . . . if you do not obey their wishes you shall be harmed.”

“I shall be shamed! I have not yet known a man.”

“If that is what happens then you must submit . . . you must not fight. Do you understand me, Nafisa?”

“I—I shall not fight.”

“You are very brave, now off with these clothes and let me see you.”

Calida thought about turning Nafisa, but it wouldn’t help the frightened girl since there wasn’t enough time. She glanced up. The guard was watching them.

Nafisa removed her
burqa
and as she took off her under garments, she kept casting nervous glances up at the guard. Calida studied the girl’s face, and then took a small washcloth that lay next to the water basin. As Calida washed Nafisa, she noticed several large scars and bruises on her arms and legs. The lifelong abuse by the men of Nafisa’s
tabar
was recorded on her skin. Even so, Nafisa was young, perhaps twenty years old, delicate, but unusually pretty with lovely green eyes. Already her life had been much too hard.

“It is time,” the guard called down to them.

“Do not show your tears, Calida said. “Do whatever is asked of you.”

Nafisa finished with the washcloth and started to put on her under clothes.

“No!” the guard yelled. “Only the
burqa.
Leave the veil.”

“It is all right,” Calida said. “I shall wash your clothes for you so they are clean when you return.”

Nafisa put her
burqa
over her head and embraced Calida. “I shall be strong, Amina. Will you pray for help to find me?”

“Do not worry, help will find you.”

Nafisa climbed up the ladder and once she reached the top the guard withdrew it trapping Calida in the pit.

“Why have you taken the ladder?” Calida asked, boldly.

“It would be unwise for you to walk around these passages by yourself,” the guard replied. “It is best to remove temptation from our eyes.”

The guard and Nafisa left her sight and a few seconds later the light hanging above the pit went out. Calida, for the second time in her remarkably long life, found herself deep inside a cave surrounded by blackness.

“Y
ou’re still not getting anything?”

Ryan had gone over every conceivable fault mode on the tracker, he had even run the unit’s self diagnostic routine. “It’s working. Just no signal from the sensor.”

“All right, we’ll hold our position here for five minutes. Squalls, recon ahead for fifty yards.”

“Be back in a few,” Squalls said and disappeared over a bank of loose stones.

Sergeant Bob checked his watch. “We have less than two hours until dawn.”

Ryan continued to breathe heavily. “I don’t know what we should do.”

“All right, the signal can penetrate through a mortared wall and it’ll relay through GPS if there’s no line of sight, right?”

“The sensor has a constant GPS link,” Ryan replied. “It transmits on standard military band but also sends an encrypted very low frequency signal that can penetrate most building materials and even up to forty feet of water.”

“What about through rock?”

“Not really.”

“Then she must be in a cave. I mean if she was out in the open and dead you’d still get a signal.”

“Makes sense. The last communication I had with her was when she was in a tent, but she broke contact and a minute later the signal went dead.”

“And you haven’t gotten even a hello from her since then?”

“Nothing.”

“I might have to make that call to base. There’s another MILSAT due to pass overhead in fifty-two minutes. If we still don’t have a signal, or she doesn’t communicate by then, I’ll have no choice.”

“Maybe we should give her—”

“Quiet.”

Sergeant Bob studied the terrain toward the south. A few seconds passed and Squalls came scooting over the loose rock pile.

“We got company . . . five men in turbans coming up from the south—a hundred meters out straight ahead.

“Armed?”

“All have AKs.”

Sergeant Bob shook his head and spit. “We get into a fire fight and our cover’s blown. Sound of those AKs will bounce all up and down the valley.” Sergeant Bob adjusted his rifle’s strap. “Are they searching or just walking?”

“Guns are partially slung and they’re making noise. No way they know we’re here.”

“Damn, this is probably the only place in the valley without decent cover.”

“Make a decision quick, Sergeant. They’ll be right up our ass in five minutes.”

“We could retreat a quarter mile . . . lots of crags and cracks to squirm into back there.” Sergeant Bob chewed his bottom lip and looked at Squalls. “How quick can you get three kill shots off with that?”

“Last shot would be in the air just as the third target realized he was screwed.”

“That leaves me the other two with this CQC. All right, Ryan you stay back here, but get that pistol out. Squalls, let’s move so we’re within fifty meters. Silencers mounted.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I never kid about shooting someone,” Sergeant Bob said. “You just keep your head down and if anyone besides me or Squalls pokes his head into view don’t wait to pull the trigger.”

“How will I know if it’s either one of you two.”

“If you see a turban, shoot,” Squalls said.

“Everybody here wears a God damn turban,” Ryan angrily whispered.

The two Rangers looked at each other, shrugged, and quickly took off. Ryan was now squatting on a shallow rocky slope all by himself. Five minutes passed and a single gunshot rang out and faded away in a series of echoes.

Ryan aimed his pistol up at the top of the rock pile and waited.

S
unrise was getting near. Nafisa had been gone for twenty minutes and even without any light, everything around Calida produced a ghostly sparkle to her eyes. The sparkle merely outlined the shapes of objects, but it allowed her to navigate without walking into the hard walls of the cave.

Calida located Nafisa somewhere above her and to the south. Her mind was in a terrible panic and Calida quickly understood her predicament. The
Amir
was also above her, but in a different direction. She then located Ryan, closer now, his thoughts anxious.

Calida entered his mind. “You are worried.”

So you wanna talk now?

“I’m in a quiet place.”

And I’m alone on a mountain.

“Where are the others?”

They went off to play soldier.

“I’ve seen the Sheikh.”

Jesus . . . did you kill him?

“Not yet. There are armed men protecting him.”

Where are you?

“In a cave at the base of the large rock I told you about.”

The sun will be up soon.

“Are you sure?”

Sorry.

“I need you to help with something, will you do that?”

What do you need?

“This thing you made . . . inside my head, how do I stop it?”

If it’s what I think any attempt to remove it can set it off.

“It’s cruel.”

I didn’t design it, exactly . . . I made the capsule that keeps your body from expelling it.

“What can we do?”

Has it gone off, the sonic alarm?

“That diseased little man has left me alone since we left America.”

But for how much longer?

“Can you do anything?”

There’s a back door in the programming that I didn’t tell the agency techs about . . . I might be able to send a signal to place it in standby so—

“Can you stop it, or turn it off? I don’t need the explanation.”

Only if I can figure out the frequency and I’ll need a signal from it to do that.

“You don’t know how to talk with it?”

I know how . . . I just need to find what band it’s been receiving. The tracker only displays the results of one sensor at a time . . . it wasn’t made to track multiple frequencies at the same time.

“But you can’t do anything right now?”

Not while you’re in that cave.

Calida paused her thoughts for a long moment.  “I would like to see you again.”

Then let’s not get ourselves killed.