The Sixth Martyr Read online

  Akram stood up and held up a hand. He nodded to him. "Go ahead."

  "Mullah, when we get them back, will you still send the girl Maryam to be a martyr? Does she deserve that honor?”

  "The girl will wear the martyr’s vest. There will be no escape from the fate Allah has laid down for her. Just in case there are any more doubters.”

  Four pairs of downcast eyes looked up, and a tremor went through them. He saw their glances and bared his teeth in a smile. "Yes, it is time for our young people to understand what Allah requires of them. Once chosen, there is no going back."

  Akram looked concerned. "Mullah, Javed is familiar with the techniques of survival, and he had the gun. He may well evade us."

  A shrug. "No matter what, the girl wears the vest. She will take Javed's place as the sixth martyr. As for the boy, he dies, no matter what.”

  "Thank you, Mullah Ahmadi. Sir, May I go with them to Bande? I know the area, and I know Javed, so I can help."

  He shook his head. "Your enthusiasm is appreciated, Akram. However, on this occasion I would prefer you to stay in the madrassa with the rest of the martyrs. Your time will come, and it will be soon. Some of the other martyrs may still harbor doubts, and you can help dispel those doubts."

  "Yes, Sir, I will. Thank you."

  "The rest of you will leave at dawn."

  They left the mosque, and some were unhappy their skills were being used to hunt down children. Although if that was the word of Mullah Ahmadi, so be it. Hunt them down they would. And they would die. In the morning, as the first rays of sun began to light up the town, they boarded a truck and set out for Bande Pitaw.

  * * *

  She'd never been so thirsty in her entire life. Maryam Amiri was terrified. Terrified of dying in this remote, desolate place. All day she'd seen no signs of life, or of her brother Javed. Somehow, she'd missed the lake, and she was plunging deeper into the park. She lay down and slept for several hours, and in the late afternoon got to her feet and began walking again. It was hopeless. With no water she was too weak and almost felt it would be better to go home, even if it meant becoming a martyr. Better than leaving her bones rotting out here where no one would ever know her final resting place.

  She heard a sudden noise, a voice in the distance. It could be Javed. She climbed the low hill, and her spirits tumbled. They were coming toward her. She turned and ran, not realizing they'd seen her more than an hour ago. Not realizing they were veterans, and they were tracking her, almost playing with her. She’d made half a mile, and they were coming up fast, when a man stepped out from behind a tree and pointed his rifle at her. She stopped and looked around for an escape, but another man stepped out. She recognized both as Talibs from Chiras. She’d failed, and all that remained was for her to die. Her mother was dead, and soon, she’d join her.

  She had little doubt they’d catch up with Javed, and he’d be dead, too. Stoned to death, beaten to death or torn apart by explosives. What difference did it make? The Islamists would get what they wanted. Death, their final goal. They tied her hands and dragged her several miles to the truck they'd parked at the edge of Bande. Several times she asked for water through parched, cracked lips, and each time they ignored her. They reached the truck, threw her to the bed, and she endured the jolting ride back to Chiras. The truck stopped, they flung her to the ground, and a man loomed over her. Inspecting her like she was nothing more than a bag of grain. She stared into the blazing eyes of Mullah Ahmadi and shivered.

  His mouth opened, the beard wobbled, and he thundered, "You were the anointed of God, and yet you dared to defy his wishes. This is committing blasphemy, Maryam Amiri. You will obey my order and wear the vest of the martyr. But for you, there will be no Paradise. You will die and go to hell, and may Allah have mercy on your soul. Perhaps he will forgive you, but I will not."

  He glanced at his men. "Take her to the madrassa, and lock her away. But before you do, fit the martyr’s vest on her, and give me the remote detonator. Should she try to run again, she will seal her own fate. You have done well, but now you must go back and find Javed Amiri. I want him. Dead or alive, I don't care which, but find him."

  "Sir, it will be dark soon. Hunting for him will be a waste of time. We found the girl in the morning, and I suggest we start again tomorrow when we have daylight in which to search."

  He gave him a sharp nod. "Very well. Leave at dawn, and don't come back until you have him."

  He stalked away, and two of his men dragged Maryam to the madrassa. Another man followed Ahmadi, and he pulled out the suicide vest.

  "Fasten it on her securely, so she cannot remove it up to the moment of her death. When this is done, give me the remote detonator. Is that clear?

  "Yes, Mullah."

  "See to it."

  Chapter Three

  They searched the entire morning, and there was no sign of her. After a short break for a hurried meal, they trudged on, looking for the slightest sign. By the end of the afternoon, they’d drawn a blank. They walked on, and they were traversing a narrow path when they saw them. Talibs.

  Joe dragged Javed down. "Get under cover. They’re looking for you and your sister, so we’ll just wait for them to pass."

  Javed nodded his understanding. They flattened themselves on the ground and watched the fighters move closer.

  They weren’t coming directly toward them, but moving toward something else, like hunters closing in on their prey. They disappeared for several minutes, and they waited. When they reappeared, they were leading the girl, with her hands fastened behind her back. Javed jerked forward. "Maryam, I have to save her."

  Joe managed to grab an ankle, and he pulled him back down out of sight. "You go down there now, and they'll fill you full of holes. That won't do Maryam any good."

  "I have the rifle," he spat in anger, “I can kill them.”

  "And they have several rifles, and they'll be much better at using them than you. Javed, think about it, we have one rifle and one pistol between us. If we try to save her now, they’ll murder us."

  "What can we do?" His voice was filled with despair.

  "We wait for them to leave. That’s all we can do. We know where they’re taking her, so we can follow."

  "To Chiras."

  "To Chiras," he agreed. They waited another ten minutes to give them time to get clear and followed their tracks. After an hour, they reached the edge of the park and boarded an old truck. They watched them throw Maryam in the back, and the truck drove away, heading north, toward Chiras.

  Joe looked at Javed. "Now we follow them. How long will it take us to reach Chiras?"

  The boy shrugged, and it was obvious he was suffering a world of torment in the knowledge of what would happen to his sister. "Perhaps two hours. It will be dark when we reach the outskirts."

  "That's good news. We’ll get moving, and find somewhere to camp outside the town."

  They started walking, and Tyler was thinking hard about when they reached the town. One man and one boy, armed with a rifle and a pistol.

  How do we beat so many armed men? It’s going to be interesting, but I made a promise. A promise I’ll keep.

  They ignored the main highway and followed a narrow track that paralleled the highway to Chiras. The area was alive with Taliban fighters, and they frequently had to take cover and wait for them to pass. It was obvious something big was going down. Which wasn’t surprising, since America had invaded and linked up with the Northern Alliance and government troops. The entire country was polarizing into two armed camps. On one side, the medieval Islamists, determined to push the nation back into the Stone Age. And on the other, the forces of Western democracy, with those Afghans who objected to the rule of the Mullahs. Either way, Joe was content to stay off the main roads. They saw no more hostiles for almost an hour and made good time. Suddenly, they were surprised by a gleaming Toyota Land Cruiser driving toward them, kicking up dust that spoiled the sparkling paintwork.

  At first he assumed it w
as a Taliban command vehicle. Until the SUV got nearer and he saw the big letters painted on the side and on the hood. UNHCR, and they stood out in plain view. The vehicle stopped, and a man got out. He greeted them in English.

  "My name is…Jesus Christ, you!”

  He recognized him at once. Ben Katz, UNHCR bureaucrat, and he’d bumped into him last time he was in Afghanistan. They’d been searching for a Taliban kill team, roaming Northern Afghanistan and looking to kill Mahmud, the colorful and charismatic man who many saw as a future leader of the nation. They found them, waiting in ambush just outside the village where Mahmud was holding court. Tyler went to intercept them, but they saw him coming and shot first. He dove for cover as the rest of his squad came in behind and wiped them out to a man. Minutes later, Katz arrived. He’d been visiting Mahmud to work out an emergency medical supplies package, when he saw the bodies. He also saw four gung-ho CIA mercs, heavily armed. Standing over the corpses, with ‘who gives a shit’ attitudes, and one was searching their clothing for documents.

  He blew up, accused Tyler of running an assassination operation, and reported him to the UN for murder. Nothing came of it, and the conclusion was they’d acted fairly, and removed a deadly threat to Mahmud. Katz became something of a laughing stock, and held a grudge ever since. Now he’d met him for the second time.

  “Ben Katz, you still around?”

  He returned a cold stare and glanced at Javed. “Are you planning to kill this one, too, Tyler?”

  “I found him collapsed in the park, and I’m trying to help him is all. What about you, still stirring up more trouble?”

  Katz reddened in anger, but brought it under control. “I'm here with my assistant Frank Steadman.” He pointed to the guy sitting in the driver’s seat, “Our mission is to visit the local communities and bring them aid where necessary. Unlike gung-ho loose cannons like you.”

  Tyler was still gripping the Colt. He eased back the hammer and tucked it into the holster. "Katz, this young man is Javed Amiri. Maybe you could offer him some help instead of shooting off your mouth.”

  He gave the boy a curious look. “Another time, perhaps, right now we’re busy. We could do with some local knowledge, so maybe he could help us. We were on our way to a town called Chiras. We must've taken a wrong turn and wound up here. Is the boy a local? Maybe he could show us the right road.”

  "You don't have satnav?"

  He raised his eyes skyward. "Satnav, yeah, we got satnav. It sends us in one direction, and we find we’re about to drive over a cliff."

  Joe pointed to Javed. "In that case, why don’t you ask him? He speaks good English. The Taliban in Chiras took his sister, and they’re planning to execute her. So maybe you could help him find out where they’re holding her.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What did she do to deserve execution?”

  He fought down his anger. “She’s twelve-years-old. What the fuck difference does it make what she did? All I’m asking is for you to keep your eyes open for her. See if you can find out where they’re holding her. If you could do that for him, it would help a lot.”

  “Sure, sure.”

  He didn’t sound like he cared. Javed gave him the directions, and Katz nodded his thanks. "Much appreciated, kid. Listen, I'd like to offer you guys a ride as you’re going in the same direction, but we’re carrying important supplies. The rear seat and the trunk are crowded. Maybe next time," he smiled.

  Tyler glanced through the window of the Land Cruiser. The rear seat and the trunk were indeed crowded. Four boxes on the rear seat, and each had the legend ‘information leaflets – UNHCR’ stenciled on the side. In the trunk, boxes of uniforms for UN medics and nurses.

  Important supplies, yeah.

  “We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

  Katz had the grace to look embarrassed. “If you give me a way to contact you, I’ll do my best to find out about this girl. Maryam Amiri, right?”

  Joe dragged out a slip of paper and jotted down his number. Katz gave him a sheepish grin. “Tyler, you don’t know this country like I do. I can tell you there’s no cellphone reception. Not outside the major cities.”

  “It’s a satphone.”

  “Uh, right.” He gave him a long, hard look, “Listen, I know you want to get this girl back, and that’s very laudable, but no rough stuff, if you get my meaning. You won’t get away with it again. Next time, they’ll drag you back to Kabul and put you on trial. The Kabul government takes unauthorized killing very seriously.”

  He gave him a neutral look. “They take unauthorized killing very seriously, yeah, right. You do know where you are, Katz? In Afghanistan, or did you think you were in fairyland?”

  A scowl. “Just don’t forget my warning.”

  “Call me if you hear anything.”

  He climbed into the vehicle without replying, and they drove away, leaving them choking in the dust. Javed looked puzzled.

  "Those men, why are they going to Chiras?"

  "To hand out leaflets telling them how the UNHCR can transform their lives."

  "How would they do that?"

  Joe shrugged. "I guess they'll give them more leaflets. Maybe they can paper the walls of their houses with them. We need to keep moving."

  They walked on toward Chiras, and on the outskirts, they made camp. Joe was running low on food, but they'd replenished the water in the lake at Bande. He shared his food with Javed, and they settled down for the night. As he lay dozing, he wondered what he'd got himself into. How had this all happened?

  He’d rushed to Afghanistan after the death of his brother Chuck, and he’d be the first to admit he arrived with no real plan to accomplish what he wanted more than anything. All that propelled him was rage. But rage wouldn’t get him revenge for the murder of Chuck Tyler, as well as all the others who died in that terrible attack. One person had given the order, had pulled the trigger. The mass murderer, Osama bin Laden. If he could get a shot at him, he'd die happy. But first, he’d made a promise to the kid.

  During the early hours of the morning, while it was still dark, he awoke, and shook Javed.

  "We need to move in closer. When the time is right, I'm going into the town. It won’t be until tonight. I'll need the cover of darkness. Let’s just hope I can find out where she is."

  "I'll come with you," he said immediately.

  Joe had been waiting for it, and he smiled as he shook his head. "Not a good idea, my young friend. This is what I do, and believe me I'm pretty good at it. I can be in and out of there without anyone knowing. It's the best way to keep your sister safe."

  The boy argued he'd be able to show him the way in. He told him he was certain he knew where they'd be holding her, and he could lead him straight there. Joe heard him out, but still he refused.

  "You can describe it to me, but then I want you to stay here. I work better on my own."

  “But…”

  “Javed, trust me. I can do this.”

  He inclined his head in a gesture of acceptance. “I trust you, Mr. Tyler.”

  Joe didn’t relax. He knew the kid would try to go with him. When it happened, he’d have to stop him. And then the rains came, and they sheltered as best they could, but they were cold and shivering. Tyler made sure the boy was as comfortable as he could, and they settled down to watch and wait until dark. As the rain eased, a truck came out of Chiras, driving at speed.

  The vehicle took the main highway that led south, toward Bande Pitaw, but then one of the men on board pointed upward to the hillside where they waited. It was almost like they knew they were there. The truck took a narrow turnoff on the left, and minutes later it was hurtling toward them. The truck bed was filled with fighters, men clutching their well-used rifles, searching everywhere with their hard gazes. They'd discovered their location.

  How could they know where we are? We’re well hidden, and almost impossible for anyone to spot us. Although there’s another possibility, someone ratted us out. I’ll think about that later. br />
  He looked at Javed, and the boy was fidgeting with his AK. "Don't even think about it. The rifle will be useless to us. All we can do is stay out of sight until they've driven past. Wait until they least expect it, and then we hit them hard."

  "I could kill some of them now." The boy was rebellious. Angry he wouldn't be able to even up the score, especially after Tyler had forbidden him to go with him to search for his sister inside the town.

  "You're right. You could kill some of them, and the rest would kill you, and then they'd kill me. Then they’ll kill your sister. Stay out of sight, and keep your finger off the trigger of that rifle."

  The boy gave him a sullen nod, and he assumed he'd got the message, but suddenly, Javed leapt up and ran to a new position. He raced up a narrow track that led to a rock shelf higher up, a vantage point hidden behind a clump of bushes. Maybe he wanted to see better, or maybe he'd decided to disobey him and start taking pot shots at the approaching men. Either way, from that moment, everything started to go wrong.

  He dove inside the clump of bushes and disturbed several birds that had been nesting there. They were like crows, and they formed a black cloud in the air. Immediately, the men riding the oncoming truck swiveled their gaze and zeroed in on the place the birds had flown from. Men pointed at the bushes, and abruptly the truck switched direction, heading straight at them. Tyler ran toward him and dragged him away.

  "We’re leaving, now. Run, it's our only chance!"

  He led the way across the hillside, heading south. Back in the direction they’d come from, Bande Pitaw. The pursuing truck slipped and slid on the wet ground, until eventually the track became too narrow. They halted and leapt out, to come howling after them, and he urged the boy on.

  "Faster, they’re getting closer, Javed. Run!"

  "I'm sorry," he gasped, "I'm doing my best."

  He'd not eaten or slept properly since he'd run from the town. His mind was haunted with thoughts of his dead mother, for which he blamed himself, and his sister. He was too slow, and Joe began looking for a place to do the unthinkable, to turn and fight back. Or they'd catch up with them and kill them.