It only took 40 minutes for the two trucks, carrying Abdul and his men, Max, Carla and Anita, to reach the camp. The road soon petered out into a short track leading to a farm, and from there on it was a very steep climb, over smooth rock covered with constantly shifting sand.
Vehicle tracks disappeared within minutes. The route taken was far from obvious, and the rugged vehicles scrabbled and strained as the drivers picked their way.
The journey must have been Anita’s worst life experience. Every lurch and judder of the truck bed caused the muscles of her abdomen to tense and flex. She had given up crying out in the agony, she just took it with clenched teeth and tears running down her face.
Max knew he could not have endured her suffering, he was sure he would have begged the Taliban to kill him there and then. He was more amazed that the stitches held, and the wound remained closed.
There was a number of large deep caves which formed the camp, with a large herd of goats milling around, constantly obliterating any signs of human occupation.
The vehicles reversed into their respective caves and Abdul led the way to one with a smaller entrance, which was deceptively large. There was a shallow pit just inside the entrance, with thick timber boards at the bottom. Two of Abdul’s men lifted the boards to reveal a narrow opening, large enough for a man to descend by ladder, into the chamber below.
It was a brilliant hiding place. Even if someone had found the camp and vehicles, it only needed one person to cover the boards with sand, and a few goats to obliterate any signs of the excavation.
Abdul ordered Max and Carla into the underground chamber and they lowered Anita down vertically, standing in a rope loop and holding on with both hands. Two armed men followed them into the chamber, carrying the medical supplies.
Max and Carla quickly made up a bed for Anita, laying the stretcher over the animal skins and blankets that were already down there. There was no way of knowing what diseases and infection lay amongst the filthy items.
The chamber was a good 6 meters by 4 meters, and almost 2 meters high. The shaft below the boards was less than 1 meter deep, the thickness of the rock floor of the cave.
There were guns and ammunition in boxes at one end, with large plastic containers of water and food.
One man remained to guard them, and when the second man left, he pulled up the ladder, so there was no escape, even if they overpowered the guard and used the guns.
***
In the light from several oil lamps, Carla checked on Anita. She thanked Max and Carla for all they had done for her and gratefully relaxed now the pain had eased. ‘A good sign’ Carla thought, ‘perhaps she will sleep, it is cool and quiet down here, and she must be totally exhausted.’
At some stage, someone lit a fire in the cave entrance, and was cooking food. Stew and bread were lowered down to the guard, and he passed some to Max and Carla. Anita would rely on her drip for now and only drink fluids from tomorrow morning.
Lying down quietly, they could hear voices, but did not understand the language. Several hours later, as darkness descended around the cave, the Afghan chief arrived with armed men. He greeted Abdul and his men as they huddled round the fire for warmth. The chief explained to Abdul about the ransom and that the person paying it had to speak to each prisoner, on the satellite phone.
Abdul called to his prisoners in the chamber and told them to come up, one by one and speak on the phone.
Max went first, Carla approached the bottom of the ladder and watched him climb. She waited till the guard in the chamber got up and approached her. He was just about to order her to stay, when she squirted a syringe full of ether into his open mouth.
It took just a small drop to totally paralyze his larynx. He wanted to scream in agony, but only a small choking grunt came out as he clutched at his face. He fell to the ground writhing, and clawing at the floor. No air could leave or enter his lungs. It would all be over in a minute of indescribable pain before he became unconscious and died.
Carla propped his gun against the wall, near the ladder. She picked up the ether bottle and waited for Max to return. The guard was still squirming.
Max spoke to Sam and said they were all fine and being well looked after; Sam said he was paying a ransom to get them out.
Abdul took the phone; he told Max to go back and get Carla to the phone.
On his way down the ladder, he confirmed that everyone was gathered at the fire; Carla nodded and climbed up with the large glass ether bottle. With her head and shoulders above the floor level she heaved the bottle up, throwing it at the ceiling over the fire; at the same time she dropped back down the ladder.
The bottle smashed on the rock ceiling spraying its contents far and wide. The ignition temperature is only 160°c, a bit hotter than boiling water, so it exploded like a fuel air bomb, with devastating effect.
Not only was the concussion from the blast sufficient to tear limbs from the Afghans, but the searing temperature enveloped them on all sides charring the flesh from their bodies. The shock wave and flame punched down into the chamber, singing the hair on the top of Carla’s head as she crouched where she landed, at the bottom of the ladder.
The three of them cleared their ears from the effects of the pressure wave and Max felt his way to the ladder. The chamber was in almost complete darkness, because the all lamps blew out.
A faint flickering glow from the cave above found its way into the chamber, as Max climbed up with the gun in hand, to check for any survivors.
He stood aghast at the devastation, small flames licked up from embers and burning clothes. The remains of the fire, with the bodies laid out in a rough circle around the center of the explosion, like numbers on a clock face. The sickening stench of burnt flesh would put him off eating barbecued meat, forever. No one moved.
“Carla, it is safe to come up, I think everyone is dead.”
A moment later, her head popped up from the pit as she climbed out to look around. They both stood still in the silence; they could hear a faint voice, a familiar voice, but so distorted and out of context, they could not make out who or where it was coming from.
They carefully kicked through the charred remains, homing in on the sound.
“It’s Sam!” cried Carla as she bent down and picked up a black, large fist sized ball of cinder. It was a fist, or at least a hand wrapped around the melted plastic of a Thuraya phone. Max took it from her and said, “Hi Sam, how are you doing? We’ve had a bit of a hectic time here, it’s been an absolute blast. Still, the party seems to be over now, and the barbecue is totally wrecked, charred meat underfoot, everywhere. Carla, Anita and I want to come home now, could you drop by and pick us up?”
“Hi Max,” Sam responded jovially, “so glad you have had such a good time, I can airlift you out from the spot where you were dropped off. I will sort out papers for Carla and Anita, and some money; they will be with the pilot. Anything else you need?”
“Actually I will need an extra $5000 in case a friend of mine shows up, could you arrange that for me?” asked Carla.
“No problem, you have saved The Organization several million dollars in ransom, so no argument there. Be at the pickup site at mid-day tomorrow; see you when you get back. Have a safe journey.”
Taking the phone from Max, she used her foot to prise the charred hand from the phone; it then dawned on Carla that this was her old Thuraya. “You just cannot beat this make for reliability, can you Max?”
They both burst out laughing, as relief swept over them.
***
Max focused his thoughts and said, “We have to find our way back down the mountain to the village again, and then lay low until mid-day. I would suggest we do that at sunrise so we can see where we are going, I will stand guard until then.”
“OK by me” replied Carla “better move to the working truck though in case we have to leave in a hurry. We can get Anita bedded down in the back, she will be warm enough with blankets around her.”
The next morning, Anita was awake and wanted to talk.
“Thank you Carla for getting me out of that hell hole of a prison, I believed I was going to die there.”
“As it turned out, if you had stayed, you would be dead by now. They wouldn’t let me speak to anyone about getting you medical care, so your fate was sealed.
“Do you know why you were put in prison, I mean, the real reason?”
“I did wonder about that, when I was well enough to care. I was surprised they never raped me or beat me, like they do most of the other more attractive women. I suspected it was because they wanted me in good condition, but then I suddenly became ill. It occurred to me that whoever it was, they wanted me for money, that is what makes things work in this country.”
“I reckon the Taliban had you in their sights, they soon came after us the moment you broke out of prison. The guard I was dealing with, Sangar Zohori, must have been in league with the Taliban all along. That is why he was so adamant he could not get you out.”
“But he did though Carla, what changed his mind?”
“I paid his wife to vanish with her child. I told her we knew another man was the child’s father and she fled. Perhaps she came back, but I doubt it. Sangar Zohori was probably too frightened of the Taliban to refuse; knowing your condition, he probably realized that if you died before they were ready to take you, he would lose payment, so he manipulated the situation to get them to take you sooner.
“Crafty bastard! Looks like I did not have the upper hand after all.”
“What do you mean, by upper hand, Carla?”
“I gave the vile pig a talking to and hurt him, a lot! That usually works, and of course a touch of blackmail to sweeten the deal. I told him I was holding his wife and child hostage, and he had to get you out or he would never see them again.
“I guess he didn’t care about them as much as I thought.”
“You are quite a girl, aren’t you Carla. Max is rather special too, of course. Are you two an item?”
“Whatever gave you that idea?”
Both women laughed conspiratorially.
***
“Why does Sam want you so badly, Anita?”
“For my expertise in lubricants and deep sea robotics. He has a client who has pushed the boundaries of deep sea exploration beyond previous limits, and has funded research through The Organization with one of their companies that makes the robots.
“I call them robots, but they are not remotely like the humanoid type that usually springs to mind. They are highly specialized, super intelligent tools.
“The big problem is water pressure at depths of miles below the surface. The lubricants for articulating joints, and liquids that fill the voids in the casing, resist the immense pressure but are quickly lost in the sea or contaminated by it. As you might know, oil does not easily mix with water, but it readily washes or floats away in a thin film. I formulate special compounds that resist this deterioration.”
“Ah! Now I understand. That is why Sam was willing to pay millions to get you back from the Taliban.”
“Time to go ladies! Brace yourself for a rough ride.”
They threaded their way down the mountain without incident and were surprised to see Habib waiting for them on Max’s motorbike.
“I thought we had lost you Habib,” said Carla, “what happened?”
“I knew you would be a while doing Anita’s operation, so I went and filled up my Land Cruiser with fuel and had my number plate fitted. When I came back, I could see the Taliban had you, so I hung around waiting for you to escape.”
“Very optimistic of you.” praised Carla, giving him her best angelic smile.
Max smiled, knowingly; you did not need to be around Carla very long to know she could either be a ‘kick-ass-bitch’ or a ‘cutie’ as the circumstances dictated.
Max thanked Habib, and Carla said she had $5000 for him on a plane that was coming to pick them up. Could he take them to the pickup point, it would be so much more comfortable for Anita with the soft seat and air conditioning.
Habib was delighted to help, and the reward of the $5000, Max’s motorbike, a pickup truck and the AK47, courtesy of the Taliban, far exceeded his expectations.