After Carla had attended to the drip and tidied up, Max disposed of his scrubs and went to find Habib. Max thought he was most likely messing about in his new Land Cruiser, and looked for him in the courtyard. Habib and the vehicle were nowhere to be seen, but instead ten armed men and two trucks were waiting there. The moment they saw Max, they raised their guns and the leader walked calmly towards him.
Max’s heart sank , he felt his guts churn and his legs went weak. After all they had been through, and now they had been caught.
‘Who are they?’ he thought, ‘they are not police or military.’
A feeling of absolute dread swept over him as the penny dropped; they could be Taliban!
The leader of the group introduced himself to Max as Abdul Mohammad Nafloom, a commander in the Taliban. His English was excellent; he asked what Max’s nationality was.
“British” Max replied firmly.
“You have two women with you, one is your colleague and the other is Anita Harooni, an Afghan scientist, tell them to come out here.” Abdul commanded.
‘This guy is well informed, he knows a lot about us but I know nothing about him. I am sure this will not go well for us,’ Max thought grimly.
“Sorry to disappoint, but Anita has just had abdominal surgery and is still unconscious from the anesthetic, and my colleague is monitoring her recovery. You had better come in and see for yourself.”
Abdul’s expression hardened, he had expected some sort of futile argument or a show of aggression, but the defiance of his command was both polite and reasonable.
He was not sure how this looked to his men. This man had openly defied him and was not intimidated, but to threaten and become aggressive would have diminished his authority further.
Abdul beckoned two of his armed men to follow, ignoring Max they walked past him, into the house.
Max followed and said calmly, “it’s the door on the right, marked ‘Surgery’, they are in there.”
One of the armed men entered, checked it was safe and Abdul walked in.
Anita was starting to come round on the operating table, and was obviously in a great deal of pain. Carla, still in her scrubs, held an oxygen mask to Anita’s face.
Carla looked at the three men, with a startled expression.
“Allow me to introduce you to Carla, my colleague. This is Abdul Mohammad Nafloom, a Taliban leader and over here on the operating table is Anita Harooni.”
Max politely made the introduction to help calm the situation.
“Abdul is here to see Anita.”
“You three must come with us now,” commanded Abdul.
“So you don’t want Anita alive then?” questioned Max. “If you move her now, she will die in agony in a few hours.
“Look, we have just opened her up and cut this out of her insides.”
He showed the stinking appendix to Abdul and squeezed putrid pus from it with a scalpel, for good effect.
Abdul turned his head away as the stench hit him and he swallowed back his rising bile, while attempting to regain his composure.
“When can she be moved?” Abdul asked.
“Tomorrow night, at the very earliest” suggested Carla, “assuming she recovers at all; her appendix ruptured and she has all this pus inside her body.” Carla pointed to the putrid yellow matter oozing out, across the metal dish. “She could easily die here on the table, we won’t know more until later.”
Both Max and Carla were keen to know what the Taliban wanted with Anita and how it would affect them, but now would not be a good time to ask questions. Things were not going Abdul’s way, and he was becoming extremely frustrated.
“You realize we are not the doctor here, he is in Kabul at the moment. Carla and I have no medical experience and we had to operate to stand any chance of saving Anita’s life. We have done our best, but if you have a qualified doctor who can help her, then please get him to treat her.
“You obviously know we got her out of the prison and are on the run, so perhaps you will help us as well.”
Max was hoping that Abdul might consider them more cooperative and less of a threat if he thought they were on his side. As the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.
Abdul was thinking hard now; he had anticipated none of this. He must keep the woman alive, she was essential to the plans of his chief. But he could not wait here either; the police and army could arrive at any moment.
“You must all leave with us now; if she dies, so do you!” Abdul shouted.
Max and Carla looked at one other, each reading the other’s thoughts. Perhaps they might escape, but not Anita. It would be weeks before she was well enough to do anything strenuous. They had gone so far with this mission and to fail at this stage was unthinkable.
Carla spoke to Max, “we need a stretcher for her and some medical supplies.”
“We might also need the ether and the oxygen bottle again. We’ll take four large syringes with ether as well, including large bore needles.” Max suggested, winking surreptitiously at Carla.
Abdul ordered his men to put Anita in the back of the pickup, along with Max & Carla, and all the medical supplies they thought they would need.
During the loading process, Max chose an opportune moment to inject ether into two tires on the other truck; he knew that, within an hour or so, the rubber would perish and the tires would explode. If the tires failed before they reached the camp, the Afghans would have to split up, because there was insufficient room for them all on the one remaining truck, which was carrying Anita. Maybe there would be an opportunity for Max and Carla to escape, with Anita.
If they arrived at the camp before the tires failed, at least they would have disabled one vehicle.
During the journey, they refilled the syringes with ether, for use as weapons. If the other vehicle and men were left behind, that would leave only Abdul and the driver, in the cab. With the side windows open, Max could spray Abdul in the face, and Carla could deal with the driver. The pain of the ether in their faces would be excruciating, and with vapor or liquid in the throat it would be fatal.