Midnight Sun (2 page)

Ali
chuckled.
"You
are
a
strange
man,
Seirim
Al
Gul. Very
strange
indeed."

"All right,
time
to
get
serious,"
barked
the
driver
.
Kharzai's
face
reflected
back
at
him
in
the
rearview
mirror.
The
driver's
eyes
were
shielded
by
silvered
aviator
sunglasses
as
well.
"We
are
here."

The
column
of
vehicles
pulled
into
a
cluster
of
single-story
mud-brick
houses
and
animal
pens
that
played
at
being
a
village.
Children
scuttled
between
the
houses
in
some
sort
of
game,
and
a
herd
of
goats
looked
up
at
the
vehicles
with
the
blank
stare
of
bestial
curiosity.
Before
the
vehicles
came
to
a
complete
stop,
a
cluster
of
laughing
boys
surrounded
them,
chattering
all
at
once
like
a
gang
of
monkeys,
 
wide
expressions
of
innocent
joy
on
their
faces,
ignorant
of
the
cold
violence
embodied
in
these
men
to
whom
they
clamored
for
attention.
Ali
and
the
others
pushed
the
boys
out
of
the
way,
projecting
a
cruel
terrorist
persona.
 
Some
of
the
boys
cowered
and
shrank
back. Others
ignored
the
mean
men
and
homed
in
directly
on
Kharzai.

In
spite
of
his
reputation
as
a
cold-blooded
killer—Seirim
Al
Gul
literally
means
Hairy
Demon—Kharzai
loved
and
was
loved
by
children.
He
trotted
into
the
mob
of
boys
and
with
the
toe
of
his
shoe,
snatched
a
soccer
ball
from
one
of
them,
starting
an
instant
game
of
keep
away.
 
Boys
chased
him,
tripping
over
each
other,
laughing
at
Kharzai's
silly
faces
as
they
tried
in
vain
to
get
the
ball
back.

Leila
came
out
of
a
nearby
house
and
stood
at
the
edge
of
the
play
area.
The
loose
end
of
a
clean
white
dupatta
draped
around
her
shoulders
and
head
fluttered
in
the
warm
breeze.
The
sunlight
set
her
unblemished
face
aglow
like
a
goddess.
Like
a
manga
artist's
dream
of
beauty,
large
almond
eyes
peered
at
him
from
beneath
the
fringe
of
her
dupatta,
pools
of
deep
brown
that
drew
him
in.
Her
bright
orange
loose-fitting
shalwar
kameez
made
him
think
of
sunrise
and
fresh
fruit.
The
baggy
Pakistani
clothing
was
not
nearly
as
formless
as
the
infamous
burka,
and
while
being
modest
by
western
standards
allowed
her
vivid
femininity
to
remain
apparent
as
she
moved.
Around
her
neck
hung
a
thin
gold
chain
with
a
heart-shaped
pendant
Kharzai
had
made
from
a
twisted
braid
of
gold
wire.
H
is mouth stretched
with
a
huge
smile
and
he
winked
at
her,
flashing
bright
white
teeth
through
his
thick
black
beard.
She
giggled
in
response.

“
Al
Gul,
”
one
of
the
men
from
the
convoy
called
from
the
door
of
a
house.